#((I left plenty of things in the profile vague wink wink))

[kiddomhearts]

Hart Family Profiles

(( Profiles of my Kiddom Hearts AU for the Hart Family aka Ven, Van, Sora, Roxas, and Xion! Feel free to send in asks but make sure to read the rules and about pages first!))

Ventus Hart

Titles: Ven, Actual Oldest, One of the Not-Twins, Junior Member of the Chess Club

Age: 10

Birthday: March 20

Relationships: Terra and Aqua (best friends, sees them as older siblings), Eraqus (mentor), Braig (mutual Dislike™), Lea and Isa (friends)

Pets: None, helps the others with theirs

Likes: Vanitas, Gardening

Dislikes: Braig, White Halls

Additional Info: Narcoleptic (type 2, +sleep apnea and memory problems), Wants to be a healer of some sort when he grows up, Has an imaginary(?) friend, Not-twins with Vanitas

 Vanitas Hart

Titles: Van, Vani, Bunitas, Self-Proclaimed Oldest, One of the Not-Twins 

Age: 10

Birthday: September 23

Relationships: Terra and Aqua (tolerance…?), Braig (???)

Pets: Flood and Hareraiser (rabbits, Netherland Dwarf and English Lop respectively)

Likes: Ventus, Rabbits

Dislikes: Expectations, Cages

Additional Info: Narcoleptic (type 1), Also wants to be a healer of some sort when older but would rather die than admit it, Has an imaginary(?) friend, Not-twins with Ventus

 Sora Hart

Titles: Sor, Oldest of the Triplets, Middle Child, First Place “Second Place Winner,” Neighborhood Sweetheart, Honorary Member of the Chess Club, The Heart

Age: 6

Birthday: March 28

Relationships: Riku and Kairi and Namine (best friends!!!!), Donald and Goofy (babysitters and tutors)

Pets: Meow Wow (cat… dog…? …puppycat)

Likes: Making Friends, Cooking

Dislikes: Grandfather, Bitter Foods

Additional Info: Everybody knows him but no one knows how, On the Kidz Struggle Team, Born at the Exact Same Time as his cousin (which freaks everyone out), Wants to an adventurer when he grows up

 Roxas Hart

Titles: Rox, Middle of the Triplets, Zombie, Killer, Number XIII, Sea Salt Maniac, The Body

Age: 6

Birthday: March 28

Relationships: Lea and Isa (best friends, fellow members), Braig (pure unadulterated loathing disdain), The Twilight Crew (aka Hayner, Pence, and Olette, different fellow members), Namine (fellow mischief maker), Ienzo (science buddy), The Rest of the Org ( ;) )

Pets: Dusk (collie, joint-custody with Xion)

Likes: Ice Cream, Science™

Dislikes: Piñatas, Braig

Additional Info: Ambidextrous, Plays the drums, On the Kidz Struggle Team, Member of the Organization of Bleeding Hearts, Member of the Twilight Town Paranormal Club

 Xion Hart

Titles: Xi, Baby of the Triplets, Baby of the Family, Number XIV, Seashell Maniac, The Soul

Age: 6

Birthday: March 28

Relationships: Lea and Isa (best friends, fellow members), The Twilight Crew (aka Hayner, Pence, and Olette, different fellow members), Namine and Kairi and Aqua (craft friends!), The Rest of the Org ( ;) )

Pets: Dusk (collie, joint-custody with Roxas)

Likes: The Beach, Deep Sea Animals

Dislikes: Dolls, Frilly Things

Additional Info: Craft Genius, Plays any instrument, On the Kidz Struggle Team, Member of the Organization of Bleeding Hearts, Member of the Twilight Town Paranormal Club

[winterscaptain]

long shot.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic - no context required

a/n: this is in response to this ask in kind of a loose way, and also fulfills kiss prompt #6 (on a falling tear). i sat down and wrote this all in one sitting this weekend and it makes me smile SO MUCH. tell me what you think! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :) this one takes place in au!december 2012

words: 2.3k warnings: alcohol use/mention, allusions to sex, language

summary: “i couldn��t have dreamed you into existence because i didn’t even know i needed you. you must have been sent to me.” - kamand kojouri

It’s a rare early night off in December and you all make the ill-advised choice to go to the bar closest to the base for some drinks and dancing, completely forgetting that academy graduation is tomorrow. 

There’s part of you that feels aged by the whole thing. Even newly-minted agents your own age look fresh-faced and about a decade younger than you feel. 

When you all walk in, there’s a bit of a hush, a lull, in the conversations around you. You find eyes on you from all directions and realize your faces are familiar ones, and in the case of Aaron and Dave, almost-famous ones. 

Aaron pulls you further into him, almost shielding you with his body as you navigate through the crowd that parts before you. It seems like an eternity before you find a table, but Derek, Aaron, and Spencer hold down the fort while the rest of you manage drinks. Strategic postings at either end of the bar is likely going to get you the best return, so you fan out accordingly. 

It’s unsurprising in the least when the bartenders make a beeline for you all, getting your orders down and drinks started over the shouts of NATs - many of them already blasted with three or four shots under their belt. 

While you wait, you can still feel a fair few pairs of eyes on you. You meet one pair, set in the face of a rather handsome new agent about your age. He smiles at you, and you shift your eyes away from him, your expression unmoving. 

He apparently takes that as invitation enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him as he winds his way to your side. 

You meet Aaron’s eyes across the room, and there’s a smile in them. You offer the smallest twitch of your lips and a wink. Watch this. 

Oh, I’m watching, his eyebrows say. 

“Hi.” The young agent finally reaches your side and offers his hand. You take it. “Agent Mark Sullivan.” 

You smile thinly and introduce yourself. “So, I take it you’ve just received an assignment?”

He laughs, making an attempt at charm. “Alright. You’re a profiler,” he says with confidence. “What gave me away?” It’s a challenge.

It’s also a long shot. A really really long shot. 

There were plenty of people in the vicinity that would be reeled in by his warm smile and handsome jawline, but your fine man (currently sprawled back in his chair with an arm on the back of the chair and a hand over his mouth to cover his smile) stands head and shoulders above the rest, sometimes literally. 

“Well,” you start, making a show of eyeing him from head to toe, “Your papers are still in your pocket and you’ve left your ID tag on, against academy and bureau regulations.” 

He startles and snatches it off his lapel, tucking it into his pocket. 

With a little smile, you soothe his embarrassment - it’s a play only designed to endear yourself to him. “It tells me you’re proud, excited. I felt the same way when I received my assignment and credentials. It’s a significant accomplishment.”

You can’t quite tell in the irregular darkness in the room, but he looks almost like he’s blushing. “Thanks.” He collects himself after a moment, putting his bravado back on. 

Your eyes flicker to Hotch once, twice. He’s still watchful. Amused. 

“So, I was lucky enough to see your lectures with the BAU and I must say...it’s impressive.” 

He says that like it’s some kind of validation. 

I need validation from this clown like I need a hole in the head. 

“Thanks. I’m usually rather modest, but I think it’s alright to say the BAU is a very fine unit.” If you’re honest, you’re talking about one particular unit chief’s...um...unit, specifically, but that’s neither here nor there.

He smirks. “What would you say if I told you I got a placement on one of the BAU teams?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? That’s quite the accomplishment.” A pair of arms wind around you and a kiss is pressed to your temple. 

It would also be a lie.

You smile and flip in Aaron’s arms, completely ignoring poor Mark. “I was just getting you a drink,” you explain, gesturing vaguely to the bar behind you. 

“I see. Did you get me -”

“Double scotch, neat, aged at least fifteen years? Yes, sir.” 

He smiles. “You know me so well.” 

“I sure do.” You pull him down by his tie and plant a firm kiss on his lips and shove him off with a smile. “Go. Sit. I’ve got it.” 

You turn back to Mark with a breathless sort of laugh. Aaron always makes you feel a little flushed and you’re happy to play it up for the benefit of the moment. “Sorry about that.” 

Mark, you find, is reconsidering his strategy. His face, while still outwardly warm, harbors a kind of calculated look to it that would almost be funny if you weren’t so eager to see what kind of trick he’d pull next. “So, Hotchner?”

“What about him?”

Mark shrugs. “I dunno. Doesn’t he have a kid?”

You nod. “Yep.” 

“And he’s a widower, right?”

“Yes.” 

Mark laughs a little. “Wouldn’t it be kinda nice to, I dunno, have some fun for a little while?”

You frown at him, and your drink arrives at the hands of the frazzled bartender. You pull the fifty from your sleeve and pass it to him with a smile. After a sip, you ask. “What do you mean?”

“It seems like a lot to take on, you know?” He backpedals upon seeing your squint. “I mean, I’m sure he’s a great guy, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone...I dunno -” He restores his confidence and leans on the bar. Again, his moves would probably work on someone else, but you were a lost cause. “- easier?”

Aaron’s scotch arrives. You pick it up in your free hand and shrug somewhat breezily. “Maybe.” 

You brush past him, leaving Mark a little confused and a bit stunned. When you return to the table after much jostling, you take a seat right on Aaron’s lap and pass him his drink, reclining in his arms. Scanning over the crowd, Mark’s frowning face sticks out like a sore thumb and you try not to look too smug. 

Other than Rossi, the rest of the team is already out on the dance floor, so you know Aaron doesn’t mind having you close. 

He sets his scotch down and wraps his arms around you kissing the underside of your jaw. You lean into his touch and smile. 

There’s nothing easier than this. 

+++

There’s something a bit sulky about Aaron when you settle next to him in bed. You squint at him, looking for his eyes as they follow the loose pattern on the bedspread. 

“Hey.” You bump his shoulder with yours. “What’s on your mind?” 

He shakes his head a little, still not meeting your eyes. “Nothing. Just thinking.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you throw the covers off and sling a leg over him, straddling his thighs. You tap your palms on his pecs on-beat with your begging. “Come on. Tell me tell me tell me tell -”

“Jesus, alright!” He cuts you off with two hands over yours, his thumbs running fondly over your knuckles. “I just…” He huffs, already a little frustrated with himself for feeling put out. 

You slide your hands out from underneath his, running up over his collarbones and shoulders to find the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear…”

You let all your breath out in a huff. “Oh, Aaron. He’s a stupid NAT who knows the only way to come after you is to come after your history.” You kiss his cheek and tuck into him. “He was trying to be a big-dick boy and it didn’t pay off for him.” 

There’s a halfhearted laugh from underneath you, and his hands wander across your back. “He is right, though. It would be easi-”

“If you say ‘easier,’ Aaron Hotchner, I’m going to lose my shit.” 

He sighs, and you pull back, tipping his chin up with a finger. 

“Hey. I love Jack. He is not an added weight in my life. He does not make my life harder in any way. Your son,” you emphasize with taps on his lips, “is the light of my life and I wouldn’t ever want to be without him.” 

Aaron’s eyes get a little misty. For his sake, you ignore it and continue. 

“I never feel like a replacement for Haley. I’ve never once minded leaving room for her in our lives because she’s my friend and I love her and I love you. I loved you before we lost her and I’ve loved you long after. This baggage keeps my feet firmly planted on the ground.” 

Aaron takes a deep breath, and his voice has the smallest of wavers when he speaks. Before he even starts, you concede to let him share what he’s feeling, if only to rebut it. “But you could - you could have so much. You could have someone ten or fifteen years younger who - I don’t know - could do things with you that thirty-somethings do. You wouldn’t have to spend your weekends at soccer games or your evenings rubbing Icy Hot on my bad knee or dealing with me on rough pain days or raising your voice because I can’t hear shit on my right side.” 

He shakes his head, and you brush the tears that fall with your thumbs. “You could have - You deserve, so much more...” The rest of his words go unspoken, but you hear them anyway. 

You deserve so much more than me.

Your eyes sting and you blink rapidly, letting your tears wet your lashes. Leaning forward, you kiss away his remaining tears, shifting your weight to wrap your legs around his waist and get as close as you can. 

With your head on his left shoulder, you whisper, “Aaron, I don’t want someone ten or fifteen years younger. I don’t care what I’m doing on my evenings and weekends because I get to spend them with you.” 

You pause for a moment. “And, I don’t need boys. I’m done with boys.” 

You lean back, looking him square in the eye, or at least trying to. “I have a man who has silver in his hair because he worries and is in his mid-forties and it doesn’t fucking matter. I have a man who is the subject of so many crushes and fantasies at the academy it makes me want to vomit.” You laugh a little at your own joke, but he’s still focused on the seam of your shirt at your collar. Changing gears, you bring your hands to the sides of his neck, feeling his pulse jump under your thumbs.

“I have no need for boys because I have a man who treats me with kindness and respect. A man who is thoughtful, who isn’t afraid of himself. A man who knows himself, who loves his son, who invited me into his life when he didn’t have to because he’s brave.”

A couple more tears fall down your cheeks and you frame his face with your hands. “You love better and more courageously than anyone I have ever known.” 

You sniffle a little. “Aaron, honey...I love you. I wouldn’t want anything else, or anyone else, for my life, to be my partner, my best friend, the person I love. Odds have it that you’ll be my husband and the father of any other kids we might acquire and that we’ll grow even older and grayer together.” 

You let a little facetious smirk cross your lips. “And I’d like you to look at me and tell me I’d be happy with some dickhead named Mark with a business degree who wears shoes well-outside his pay grade.” 

That does it. 

Aaron smiles and pulls you to him with a hand at the back of your head. Your lips meet and you can taste the saltwater, but it doesn’t matter. 

He pulls back to look at you, and he really looks at you. His eyes roam hungrily over your face as if trying to memorize every line and curve and lash and budding wrinkle he finds there. 

You simply melt in the dark brown of his eyes, watching him take his time. 

Even then, as you expected, there is some doubt - not in you, of course, but in him. “Really?”

“Really.” You hold up your fist between your faces, pinky extended. “Pinky promise.” 

He smiles a little and links your pinkies together, twisting your hands to kiss your knuckles. Your hands drop into your lap and another little smile crosses your face. 

“What?” He asks.

You shrug. “I’m also thinking about how thirty-something-year-old boys absolutely suck in bed. I can pretty much guarantee that you’re better at - well, just about everything.” 

He closes his eyes and smiles, looking the picture of a happy house cat in the sun. You draw closer, running your nose along his. He leans toward you and captures your lips again. 

The next few hours? Don’t worry. They’re spent proving your point.  

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou

[fireintheforest]

Behind the Blue, chapter 23, part 1

The day was shining with a promising sun, a cool wind that blew now and then and teased some of Saufinril’s hairstrands as he combed his hair. It’d been a while since he’d sent a message to Lillandril and Rialas; they’d be bound to have received the previous one by now. They hadn’t busted into the area in all their sassy, magic throwing, arrow shooting glory, so he guessed they were perfectly fine and happy that he’d communicated with them, busy believing he was fine and correcting the way he wrote his g’s.

“At your age,” Saufinril imitated Lillandril’s tone as he kept brushing his hair, clutching the leather strap with his teeth, “one was capable of writing letters to the Queen and the jarls of Skyrim with such fine writing that when Julianos himself saw it, he wept and it created the ocean. PAH!” He moved to tie his hair back, “Your h’s look like long-necked dogs- NO!” he cried out as the leather strap broke, “Fuck!” He sighed and moved his long long hair to the side and started to braid it, tying the end of the braid with one half of the leather strap. This is what he gets for mocking his elders.

Standing up from the dresser, he went to his luggage and ruffled through his clothes for something to wear for the lunch. After trifling for a while, though, he sighed and put his clothes aside. He needed to present Cyremin in a lunch with a Thalmor officer, Armellon and the target of this theft and sell it with the adequate clothes, but none felt quite right. And he couldn’t go back to Marley- so far not enough Altmer had been attracted to the clothes the way he’d promised they would, Marley might as well know by now that he was a con mer.

Maybe if he sold something of his and got another robe from another seamstress or tailor, at least for today…Saufinril rubbed his temple. He needed to go out. Reaching up to tie his braid into a bun, he threw on clothes from the top of his baggage and hurried out the door, walking out past the streets, past the flowerbeds and chattering people, until he reached the streets lined with businesses on either side and started to peer at the windows. Bakeries, flower shops, jewelry stores-

“Monsieur?”

Saufinril turned around and found Dean, Marley’s nephew, approaching from a short distance away, where Saufinril must’ve walked past him. Saufinril immediately gave him arched eyebrows.

“My uncle wants to see you at the store.”

“And you ran all the way here?” Saufinril tapped the boy’s head with two fingers, earning a puzzled (and somewhat mad) look. Saufinril just chuckled, “Lead the way.” He masked the resignment in his face as he followed the Breton boy. Fuck, here comes the ‘I haven’t received any clients, hold your side of the deal’, with what money would he pay him back?

Before he knew it, the store showed up ahead of him, open and awaiting customers. They stepped inside, and not long after Marley came from the back of the storefront. When his eyes found Saufinril, they lit up with a smile.

“Monsieur!” he exclaimed, his usual sunny demeanor shining through as he opened his arms.

“One’s been told you wanted one.” Saufinril purred with a wink. Dean gave Saufinril a disgusted look and walked to the back of the store as Marley laughed nervously.

“Indeed, I sent my nephew to find and fetch you.” Marley cleared his throat, smiling, “I called to thank you!”

The arched eyebrow Saufinril gave him was natural, “Thank one?”

“This morning,” Marley began, “a gentlemer came asking to see one’s robes, claiming he’d seen an Altmer wearing beautiful clothes and he’d been asking to see who made them, and he was directed here! To me!” Marley’s eyes were positively shining, almost like a puppy’s, Saufinril thought amused, “I-I had no idea it could be you until I asked them to describe you and-well he seemed confused that I did, but when he did I-I knew, I knew and you were right!”

Saufinril hid his own surprise with an eyeroll and a smile, “Of course it worked.” He forced a laugh, -“One told you it would, didn’t one?”

“You did, and-I-“ Marley passed a hand through his hair, “I-I had my doubts, monsieur. I haven’t had that many clients since I moved from Dunlain, it was looking grim but…but it worked!”

Saufinril gave him a sweet smile, “Of course it worked. You didn’t need to bring one here to tell you that.”

Marley paused, and then scratched the back of his head, offering an embarrassed smile. “I guess I was excited about the order and wanted to thank you in person, I hope I’m not interrupting your agenda. To be honest, it didn’t cross my mind that-”

“It’s quite forgiven, Marley.” Saufinril walked towards the tailor and traced a finger down his chest, “If, that is…” Marley’s smile faded as he observed the golden finger gently go down, then to his chin as Saufinril made him look up at his eyes, “you give one another of your creations for this afternoon.”

Marley blinked twice, “Th-this afternoon?”

“Mmm. One has a meeting with some officers, and one knows just how marvelously you can work.”

“My uncle is not a dressing servant!” both grownups turned to Dean, who both had forgotten was in the store. He was at the end of the counter, jaw tight and nostrils flaring, eyes set on Saufinril and fists curled tight.

No, holding tight. There was a parchment on his hand, where Saufinril could vaguely see the silhouette of a wolf holding what seemed to be a wet seed on his mouth.

“Don’t mingle in adult conversations, boy!” Marley exclaimed, his voice aiming for stern but only managing embarassment. Saufinril raised an eyebrow. He’d had plenty of dimwitted ideas in his past but at least he knew he’d NEVER butted in in an adult conversation. Unthinkable, both back in the Isles and living with Lillandril.

“But uncle!” the teen pushed, and Saufinril immediately understood why his younger years had been so amusing to Ria, “It’s the truth! You can’t let some-some outlander boss you around, expecting you halt your business and have everything ready for him!”

Annoyingly, the child had a point. But he had a job.

“’Tis fine, one can look for another tailor if this is too short notice.” Saufinril offered, arranging his face to one of disinterest and displeasure. He removed his finger from Marley’s jaw.

“Dean” Marley spoke, this time with an angrier edge, “Stop this at once.”

Dean’s face turned a rose color, mumbled an apology, and left to the back. Marley turned to Saufinril, face twisted with embarrassment.

“I am so sorry about him, monsieur, he’s my sister’s son. I took him in to show him the trade and help her- she has seven children, see. And he’s, he’s had his share of trouble back home, he doesn’t know how to hold back…”

He didn’t know what it was, but something about Marley’s speech bothered him. Still he just smiled.

“Nevermind that.” Saufinril said, “Back to the matter at hand. One might have to meet with more officials, and one will need clothes for such occasion.”

“Of course. If you give me some days-”

“Days?” Saufinril let out a short laugh, “One is due in hours! Good evening, monsieur.” He turned around and began to walk out the store.

“Wait!” Marley called, making Saufinril stop and turn, “I…I don’t have anything for right now.” Marley admitted, then sighed in defeat, “But, I know this seamstress. She might have something for you.”

Saufinril scratched the underside of his chin, arching an eyebrow, “Where is she?”

“Let me write the address for you.”

 Five twists and turns, two dead ends, a Breton girl stopped for directions and a brief stop at a bakery for a quick breakfast of chocolate-centered pastry and Saufinril was finally in front of MICETTE’S, as the sign outside of the store advertised.

Saufinril had been able to trick Marley into lending him clothes for free. Self-doubt started to creep in as he wondered if he’d be able to do the same to this Micette or if he was going to have to fork over money for robes he would wear only once.

He sighed. As much as he rolled his eyes at them, sometimes he really appreciated Rialas’s and Lillandril’s confidence in things.

“ ‘Onwards and upwards, as the mentally challenged would say’ ” Saufinril muttered to himself, while mentally he heard those words in Lillandril’s voice. Back straight, arrogant face, it’s showtime. He pushed the door and went in.

Saufinril immediately understood why Marley had accepted the deal of working for exposure when many others would’ve refused (Rialas, if proposed with this, would bite the person’s face): his store was empty. Every time he walked into Marley’s, there were orders getting made, but the store remained empty. Saufinril assumed that it was because his rich clients sent their servants to fetch their orders, and since not that many people were of the merchant middle class, not everyone could afford his creations.

Micette’s store, however, also had orders being made. And also had servants. But there were around four or five, waiting for their packages. And while Marley had the help of his loudmouth nephew, at Micette’s counter there were two other girls attending the servants. And these servants’s shirts and blouses were made of a nicer material than Toivon’s and Sorcise’s.

Micette’s was higher class, then. What the FUCK. Marley accepted the deal because he was desperate. Micette has high-profile clients. What would she have for him? How would he pull the same trick on her?

He didn’t have a chance to mull it over too much, because the blond girl at the counter spotted him. She gave two servants some parcels and sent them their way before approaching him.

“Good morning.” She said, giving him a cordial smile, “Are you here to see our wares?”

“One is here to see Micette.” Saufinril replied, slipping easily into the Cyremin act. For a second he thought this girl was going to look at him up and down and send him on his way, but instead she gave a brief nod and replied, “Right this way.” Before leading him up a set of stairs on the right. Once they reached the second floor, Saufinril was greeted with the sight of a waiting room with light blue, soft seats, a fur rug, various porcelain vases with roses and Mara’s tears, a table with a plate that had dainty strawberry tarts, cream puffs, mini rose sweet rolls and apple and lavender dumplings. As soon as Saufinril sat at the seat, the girl that brought him in served him some tea, leaving the mug and the clear teapot with the underwater blooming jasmine flower in the table.

“I’ll fetch her for you, monsieur.” And with that, she went to a door next to the stairs they’d come up from. Her steps indicated it was stairs. Once she was gone, Saufinril relaxed and looked around better. The smell of roses was starting to get to his nostrils, which meant in a little while it would impregnate the whole room. Lovely. If there was something he and Lillandril could probably agree, it was how tacky it is to leave a store with the stench of whatever scent the owner decided to bathe everyone in. No offense to perfumeries, of course, just-

He heard two sets of feet come down the stairs behind the door.

[daydreamsofh]

Dreamy MC Profile

I was tagged by my favorite girl @oh-honey-styles​ for the Dreamy MC to answer some questions! These are so much fun and did I freak out when Anne tagged me in something for writers?????? The answer is yes. Thank you for the tag sweets! 

Also, our Dreamy girl’s profile was a little vague, (mainly because we were focusing on Harry like usual for the duration of the piece ajskkasksjd) but maybe this could open the door for more of these two! 

Rules: Choose a couple of favourite photos/gifs of your character, copy and paste the questions down below, answer as if you’re the character that’s been tagged, and then tag some characters/authors you would love to see answer next! (BTW, you’re also allowed to tag an author again if they have more than one character you want to answer these questions!)

1. If you weren’t doing what you’re doing now (work/study), what would you be doing instead? If I didn’t have the job that I do now, I would definitely want to be in a position to be my own boss, Harry has always said I’m good in charge (minds out of the gutter, people!! Although *wink wink*) and in a crisis, and I think I could make a real impact in my area of work. 

2. If you could change one thing you did or didn’t say in the past, what would it be? You probably guessed it, but I would have told Harry how I felt from the start. As happy and in disbelief that we actually are together now, I think about how much time we wasted not being together. Our friends would probably argue that we’ve technically always been together, friends don’t look at each other the way that Harry and I do, or ever did. But technically part of that is on him, the dude wrote me a novel of love letters and notes for literally YEARS, and the man couldn’t just have given one of those to me at some point?! Mailed me one? Slipped one under my favorite coffee mug? Sent one by carrier pigeon? He could have given a very dramatic Grey’s Anatomy style monologue of one to me, but noooo. I had to go make myself look like a weepy fool (which I am aware I am, sue me) and blurt every feeling I have ever had about him out. 

3. What’s one personal secret you haven’t told a soul? That I have actually told Harry how I felt about him, plenty of times before. I mean he was asleep on my couch but he was laying in my lap, zonked out, drooling on my leg, but I may or may not have whispered that I love him over and over again. Holding my breath everytime his breathing changed, terrified that he had heard me. He sleeps like a polar bear so thankfully he never heard me, but we had a few close calls. 

4. If your mum texted you right now, how would that make you feel? Since I told her that Harry and I are finally together, she has been over the freakin moon. She had already sniffed it out once I called her and I was practically singing while I was talking. She asks me for pictures of Harry everytime she knows we’re together. She has a plethora of nicknames for him, which started out long before we were together. I’ve never been able to really keep anything from her before, so she knew about Harry from the start. 

5. Have you pictured your future? If so, what does it look like? Hmm, right now I would say my future looks a lot like what I have right now. Maybe one day being my own boss, having a garden the size of Texas, maybe some curly headed babies down the road…. Okay definitely some curly haired babies down the road. 

6. What is your Zodiac sign and do you agree with it? Gemini, and yes. I’m all over the place, emotional to an embarrassing degree, and really hard on myself, all the time. 

 7. Do you use social media? If so, what kinds of things do you post? If not, why not? Most definitely! Mainly pictures of flowers, pretty spaces, and my adorable baby cousins and some of the rest of my family. And maybe some concert pictures here and there. 

8. Who’s the most important person to you? Other than my Mom, Sam is a close second. He’s been a constant in my life since we met years ago, and he believes in me a lot more than I believe in myself. 

9. What are your interests and hobbies? I’ve always loved being outside and in my garden, love shopping, and spending any time I have left from work with my family. And with a certain someone. 

10. Have you ever been in love? Why/Why not? Do I even need to answer this one?? I think I have proved many embarrassingly, over the top times, that yes I have been. And still am. Always will be. I better get an album written about me next though. 

[featherymalignancy]

CHAPTER THREE—In Vino Veritas: A Nessian Story

“In wine lies the truth”

Summary: Nesta Archeron is convinced she has everything she wants: a law degree from an ivy, a prestigious job, a gorgeous boyfriend, and excellent taste in wine. However, when she wanders into her local wine vendor and meets a handsome stranger unafraid to play her quick-witted games, she begins to wonder if the life she’s built is really the one she wants.

Cash Kahukore worked his entire adolescent life to become a sommelier, ignoring the slurs his mixed heritage have always earned him as he fought his way to the top. However, after five years abroad buying for Michelin star restaurants and dealing with rich white assholes, he’s grown bored with his life. When a gorgeous lawyer comes in to his uncle’s shop one afternoon, he immediately recognizes a worthy opponent in her. Undaunted by her sharp tongue and possessive boyfriend, he’s determined to be her friend, and—as time goes on and their circumstances change—possibly something more.

This a prequel to Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots that takes place three years before. If you love Elriel (and don’t mind finding out how this story ends) check it now.

Check out the masterlist for In Vino Veritas here!

Chapter Three: Bollinger

This time, Nesta didn’t bother lying to herself; she’d made the trip to Merchant because she wanted to see Cash.

It was perfectly innocent, though. She’d had a good day was all, and the truth was she didn’t have an over-abundance of friends in San Francisco. It would just be nice to see a familiar face. Besides, Tomás was out of town, which made this...easier than it might have ordinarily been. 

The old bell chimed as she strode in, and Cash—who’d be pouring over what looked like an inventory report behind the bar—grinned when he saw her, eyes glittering. His hair was tied up in its usual style at its crown, but today he also wore a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that made him look more distinguished, if no less roguish. She found it vaguely irritating  that he seemed to get more handsome every time she saw him. 

“Let me guess,” he said in greeting. “Another dinner party.”

“No,” she said primly, setting her bag down and perching on a stool. “Today we’re celebrating.”

He grinned, teeth bright against his bronze skin.

“Are we?”

“We are,” she said. “I just won a huge case.”

“Congratulations. Unless—” he narrowed his eyes. “You weren’t defending a murderer, were you? Tell me he didn’t do it.”

“It was a civil case. Police brutality.”

Cash’s eyes softened. 

“Not just a supermodel, then. A superhero, too.”

Nesta let the comment glance off of her, unsure the sort of damage it could do her if she let it sink in. Instead she pursed her lips.

“The officer broke my client’s back during a rough ride. A man who’d done so little wrong that he was never even charged for the supposed crime he was arrested for. He was only in police custody so long because he ended up in surgery.” She shook her head. “Fifteen hours on the table, and he’ll still never walk again. I pushed for criminal charges but couldn’t get the government to prosecute, so I took the case to civil court instead.” 

She flashed a dour smile.

“I made sure there wasn’t a cent left on the table.”

Cash let out a low whistle.

“You sort of scare me, you know?”

Nesta shrugged, feeling oddly pleased by this observation. 

“Normally I only take on criminal defense cases pro-bono, but this wasn’t one I was going to let slide.”

“You fascinate me,” Cash admitted, and Nesta huffed, not wanting to let that sink in, either. 

Unfortunately, it was harder to ignore, and Nesta felt her cheeks warming.

“Maybe you just need to get out more.”

Cash laughed, eyes glittering from behind his frames.

“I’ve been out plenty, trust me.”

“Gross,” she sniped, and he laughed again.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You’re just determined to make me a philanderer, aren’t you?”

She glanced at her watch to give herself something to do.

“You’ve yet to prove you aren’t one.”

“I can’t prove a lack of something. As for proving the opposite—“ he shrugged. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

“I don’t care for surprises,” she said, needing to change the subject.

It felt too much like they were flirting again, and it was a line she knew she couldn’t cross. Tomás would be beside himself if he ever found out.

“Alright,” Cash said, seeming to read her body language. “Enough witty banter. What kind of champagne do you like?”

“Bollinger,” she said. “If you have it.”

Cash grinned, the gold in his ears winking at her as he propped his chin on a fist. 

“Are you sure you’re not a international super spy? That’s James Bond’s favorite, too.”

She couldn’t stifle a short laugh.

“How do you even know that?”

“When are you going to accept that when it comes to wine, there’s nothing I don’t know?”

“Never,” she said in challenge. “Because someday you’re going to make a mistake, and I vow to be there to roast you for it when you do.”

Cash raised his eyebrows, leaning in slightly.

“Then I’ll be sure to make said mistake in the shower.”

“Cash,” she warned, even as she fended off another laugh.

“You’re the one making threats!” He said, holding up his hands. “I can’t help it if you occasionally fall victim to your own hubris.”

“I—“ she began, still trying to avoid imagining what Cash looked like in the shower. His thick hair slicked back, skin glistening as water ran down the arched grooves of his Adonis belt towards his thick—

She cleared her throat.

“Fine. You win this round.”

“Part of me is afraid that you’re only giving ground as some sort of tactic, but I’ll take my wins where I can get them.”

“Then I have you just where I want you,” she said, glad to have made her way back to more familiar terrority.

He laughed, going to get the champagne.

“You can have me wherever you want, Archeron,” he called, but before she could censure him for it, he’d disappeared into the back.

He came back carrying the Bollinger and two antique glasses that reminded her of Downton Abbey. 

“Nice touch,” she said, gesturing to them.

Cash flashed a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Thought you’d like these. Be gentle with them, these are Dev’s babies.”

He popped the bottle with a expert kiss of sound before pouring a measure for each of them and pushing one of the glasses to her. 

He held his up to her.

“To the justice we can get.”

She raised hers in answer. 

“Even if it isn’t the justice that’s deserved.”

Their glasses sang as they touched, and Nesta paused before taking a sip so she could watch him take his. As always, his reaction didn’t disappoint. 

His brows drew together as he gave a hum of appreciation, biting his lip as he let the flavor linger. She hurriedly took a sip herself, not wanting to get caught admiring him. She could feel him studying her in return as she did.

She let her eyes flutter shut as the satiny bubbles caressed her tongue. 

“What do you taste?”

Her eyes snapped open to find he was still watching her, head cocked slightly to the side.

“You’re the expert,” she said archly. “You tell me.”

He laughed.

“I already know the profile. I want to hear what you think.”

“Is this your way of putting me in my place after all my dress-downs?”

His grin faded, something she couldn’t quite name softening his hazel eyes. 

“Never. I just—“ some of the tension melted from his shoulder as he gave a laugh that didn’t feel entirely genuine. “You obviously have a great palette. I just want to know what it is you like about this vintage in particular. Think of it as—market research, if you want.”

She considered this, and him, because taking another sip. 

“I’d know it was champagnois even if I’d never had it before. It’s nuttier than a Prosecco or a Cava. Not as finely-edged. And the fruit in it is lightly spiced. Apple, definitely. And...pear, maybe? It reminds me of Christmas.”

She glanced up to find him looking at her. 

“Well?” she said, feeling oddly embarrassed. “How did I do?”

“Spot on,” he said. “Though no surprises there. You would have made a great sommelier. A big part of the job is painting a picture that makes people fall in love with the wine. That description was painfully charming.”

“Don’t be obsequious,” she warned, even as she felt herself preening a little from the compliment.

“No idea what that means,” he said with a grin. “But I will do my best. How did things turn out with your sister and the Riesling?”

Nesta flashed a feline smirk, one she knew sent most men running for the hills. 

“Better than I could have hoped,” she said “Graysen’s mother wouldn’t stop raving about it. Her new favorite, she said. Even better than the bottle Graysen got here for her birthday last year.”

Her smirk widened as he shook his head, laughing. 

“You’re gonna put this poor kid in therapy.”

Nesta sniffed, taking another sip.

“He’s made Ellie cry more than once; he can burn in Hell for all I care. Besides, he couldn’t be less worthy of her if he were were a clown car mechanic. I’m going to throw a gala they day they break up for good.”

“If you could invent a perfect man for Elain, what would he be like?”

“Quiet,” Nesta said immediately, and when Cash laughed, she added, “I’m serious! Graysen is constantly talking, and she can never get a word in when they’re together. She has so many interesting things to say; she deserves a guy who wants nothing more than to listen to her all day.”

“A wallflower, roger that. What else?”

Nesta considered. 

“Someone who does sweet things for her. Elain’s love language is acts of service. Men always want to buy her expensive things or spouts odes to her beauty. What she really wants is someone who will pack her a sack lunch or get her car washed. Also dark-haired. Grown men shouldn’t be blonde.”

Cash grinned, eyes slight. 

“He sounds like a dreamboat. Maybe I should let you find me someone, too.”

Nesta was surprised at how much the comment ached. Not that she begrudged Cash meeting a woman; he certainly deserved it. She just—didn’t want to have to imagine it. 

“I don’t know you well enough to make an accurate assessment,” she sniffed, trying not to seem too desperate as she poured herself more champagne. 

Cash opened his arms in invitation. 

“What would you like to know?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes as she considered. 

“How do you feel about Beyoncé?”

Cash laughed.

“Is this a trick?”

“Answer the question, please.”

“The Lemonade album deserves a permanent exhibit at the Smithsonian as a pillar of human achievement.”

She nodded in approval.

“Good. At least I know I can trust you now.”

“That’s your litmus rest?” He laughed. “What were you going to say if I say no?”

“Leave and never come back, obviously,” she said. 

“Fair enough,” Cash allowed. “What else?”

“Best Hogwarts house?”

“Alright, this one is too easy. Gryffindor.”

Nesta feigned a gag. 

“That is the most offensive thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Daring and chivalrous! Those aren’t favorable traits to you?”

Nesta sniffed imperiously. 

“Self-important and braggadocious, you mean. Besides, there’s nothing more dangerous that a person who’s convinced they’re right.”

He shook his head, chuckling. 

“I feel so foolish. Everything about you screams Slytherin; I should have seen that question for the trap is was.”

“You know why I’ve been so successful in the courtroom?”

“Because you’re brilliant?”

She dismissed the compliment with a flick, even as it warmed her from the inside out.

“Because most of the time I’m going up against self-righteous prosecutors who’d rather waste their time beating their chest and  waxing dramatically to the jury about my client’s character, instead of arguing the facts. It makes mounting a defense and tearing them to ribbons almost comically easy.”

“Like I said,” Cash offered, studying her with unchecked appreciation. “Fascinating.”

“I’ll change your mind before this is all over,” she said. “Mark my words.”

He leaned in slightly, enough that she could smell his clean scent again. 

“Looking forward to it.”

They studied each other for a moment, and this time it was Cash who looked away, chuckling quietly to himself. 

“What else?”

“Tell me secret. Something no one else knows about you.”

He considered this before turning over his forearms to show her his tattoos.

“I cried like a baby when I got these.”

She put her chin in her hand, if only to resist the urge to trace the slightly-ridged ribbons of ink. The designs were exquisitely tendered; whoever the artist was, they’d known what they were doing.

“Why?” she asked finally. 

He laughed. 

“Because they fucking hurt!”

She pursed her lips to indicate she wasn’t buying it, and he laughed again, glancing down at his forearms. 

“Growing up, I just always felt like—I don’t know—a mongrel. When you’re a kid all you want to do is fit in, and being mixed, I never really felt like I did. I was—weirdly resentful I couldn’t just be like everyone else. I had my gran in my ear always spouting all this Māori stuff, but I just wanted to be Hawaiian. It wasn’t until she took me back to Waitomo when I was in high school that I got to see my culture for what it was—mine. I wanted to wear that pride on my skin.”

“So when you got the tattoos...”

He nodded.

“When I got the tattoos, I felt like I was reclaiming something I’d lost. Not just a sense of belonging, but a connection to my dad, who I never got to meet. It was—really emotional.”

“Did you take anyone with you?”

“My friend Ro. He was the only other Māori kid in my neighborhood growing up, so our families were always close.”

Cash laughed, adjusting his glasses. 

“You should see him. His tats cover almost the whole left side of his damn body. If he hadn’t wanted to be a cop, I’m pretty sure he’d have gotten them on his face. We had to convince him to stop mid-neck.”

Cash glanced down at his own again, and Nesta couldn’t resist. Gingerly she reached out to follow the band on diamonds that studded along his wrist. She watched his skin pebble under her touch, and she pulled her hand back, knowing she was being unfair. 

“That sounds—intimidating,” she said instead, trying to shift the conversation back.

Cash shrugged.

“He’s a sweet dude underneath all the gruffness, but yeah, he’s pretty terrifying with all that ink. I suppose it doesn’t help that he’s also 6’6 and looks like a jacked Anderson Cooper.”

She had to laugh. 

“What does that even mean?”

“He started going grey when we were still in high school, and now he’s completely silver. It’s annoyingly dashing.“

Nesta snorted. 

“The silver fox trope is such a double standard. If I was completely gray, no one would be gushing over it.”

Cash considered. 

“I feel like you would be very striking as a silver vixen. Besides, I thought women dying their hair gray was a thing now?”

“How do you even know that?”

Cash laughed. 

“My friend Rhys is a...great lover of females.He loves to opine on all the various trends.”

“Is that your polite way of saying he’s a playboy?”

Cash shrugged.

“His dad’s a billionaire. Az and I think he didn’t hear the word ‘no’ enough as a kid, and it’s made him restless and hedonistic. When he meets the right girl, though, it’s going to be game-set-match. I know it.”

“Thats...charming, I suppose.”

“You’d like him,” Cash said before pausing to laugh. “...I think. His cousin I think you’d definitely like. In fact, I’m having a friend from Paris in next week to host a tasting, and Mor will be there. You should come and meet her.”

Nesta’s heart leapt at the opportunity. She loved getting dressed and going out, and she was in rather desperate need of female friends. Still, there was Tomás to consider.

“I know that look,” Cash said. “So let me beat you to the punch: you can bring your boyfriend, and whoever else you want.” 

“Elain would love it,” Nesta said, not wanting to admit that Tomás wouldn’t, especially when he saw Cash.

Still, she was reasonably confident she could convince him. 

“Maybe I’ll tell her to bring Graysen, and your friend can embarrass him in front of everyone.”

Cash shook his head, giving a resigned chuckle. 

“You are terrible.”

Nesta admired her long nails self-importantly. 

“Please, you love it.”

She immediately regretted saying it. She wasn’t oblivious to the way Cash sometimes looked at her, and she didn’t want to blur any lines by being over-flirtatious. It wasn’t fair to him, and it definitely wasn’t fair to Tomás. And if he ever found out she’d been saying things like that to another guy behind his back, he’d never let her step foot in the Merchant again.

“I admit I’m morbidly curious about this guy,” Cash admitted. “Though I don’t want your sister to hate me for humiliating her boyfriend.”

“She’ll love you,” Nesta blurted, and realizing her misstep, forced herself to add, “maybe I’ll set you two up once she gives Graysen the boot.”

The idea made her stomach roil, especially when Cash smirked.

“First you accuse me of philandering, and now you want to set me up with your precious baby sitter? Pick a lane, Archeron.”

Nesta shrugged mechanically.

“At least I’d know she was being treated the way she deserves.”

Cash laughed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on the bar.

“I don’t want to date your sister, Nes.”

Nesta ignored the way something in her black heart fluttered at the declaration, pursing her lips in feigned annoyance instead.

“Why not? Gorgeous and brilliant aren’t your type?”

Cash laughed.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that gorgeous and brilliant are every guy’s type.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Nesta had no idea why she was pushing the issue. She had less than zero desire to see Cash pursue Elain.

Cash only laughed again, an edge of exasperation souring the otherwise rich sound.

“Maybe I’m too afraid of you. I can only imagine what kind of cruel and unusual torture you’d cook up for me if things didn’t work out.”

“I’d flay and barbecue you at a low heat,” Nesta affirmed, and Cash grinned, his expression easing slightly.

“Exactly. Besides,” he paused, eyes glittering from behind his frames as he studied her again. “I wouldn’t want to risking messing up our friendship.”

She sniffed to disguise the way that touched her.

“Bold of you to assume we’re friends. We hardly know each other.”

“I know you better than you think, my thorny Slytherin queen. And we are friends, so don’t be like that.”

“Fine,” she said. “I admit I find your company enjoyable in an...annoying sort of way.”

“Please,” Cash said, grinning. “You love it.”

“Don’t push it,” she warned, and he only grinned wider.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. So about next weekend: are you in? I’m trying to firm up the guest list for my friend Hélion.”

Nesta felt her cheeks warming as she admitted, “I...have to discuss it with Tomás. He’s been out of town.”

Cash looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he said, “Well if you do decide to come, I have only one request—“

“That I don’t bring my friend Claire,” Nesta finished for him, and he laughed. 

“She was in again last week and left me her number on a receipt. I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Call her?” Nesta made herself suggest.

Cash frowned.

 “I told you: not my type. Everything I said, she agreed with. I don’t want a woman who only ever tells me what she thinks I want to hear.”

Nesta couldn’t help herself.

“What do you want, then?”

Cash sank his teeth into his plush lower lip as if he were trying to suppress a smile before finally glancing at her.

“Someone who’s quick on the draw, and who isn’t afraid to dish it back. I don’t want a admirer; I want an equal. Besides,” he paused, biting his lip again. “I prefer brunettes.”

Nesta felt her heart beating in her throat as he studied her—her dark hair—before meeting her gaze again. 

“If you know anyone like that, then...”

“I don’t,” Nesta said automatically before adding, “sorry.”

Cash continued watching her for a second before shrugging. 

“Being single isn’t all bad.”

“I wouldn’t really know,” Nesta admitted in a soft voice. “It’s been a while.”

Cash nodded, adjusting his frames as he looked down into his glass.

“How long have you two been together?”

“Six years.”

“That’s—a long time.”

“It is,” she agreed, wishing they could change the subject.

“No ring yet?”

Her eyes snapped up, he shook his head. 

“Sorry. None of my business.”

She thought about biting out that no, it most certainly wasn’t, before realizing she didn’t want to sour things with an unduly harsh retort. Instead she shrugged. 

“If he had his way, we’d be married already. I’m the one who’s insisted on waiting.”

“Why?”

She didn’t know why she answered. She knew she really shouldn’t, but somehow she couldn’t help herself. Cash was so easy to talk to, and the fact he didn’t know Tomás personally somehow made it feel like less of a violation of their privacy. 

“We’ve been through a lot together, but I don’t know—I’m not ready. I guess I’m just waiting for a sign to show me that I am.”

“Didn’t have you down as a person who believed in signs,” Cash admitted. 

Nesta fidgeted in her seat, looking down at her bare left hand. 

“I’m not usually. But this is...too important not to be completely sure.”

Cash nodded but didn’t push for clarification, even though she could tell he wanted to.

“I’m happy, though,” Nesta added, needing to hear herself say it out loud. “He makes me very happy.”

Cash gave her a smile that was warm, even if it didn’t quite touch his eyes.

“You deserve that,” he said. 

“How would you know?”

At this Cash’s smile widened to show pearly teeth. 

“Because I’m an excellent judge of character. Besides, doesn’t everyone deserve that? Someone who makes them happy?”

“You do,” she blurted, and her cheeks caught fire as she realized she’d said it out loud. 

She’d clearly drank more champagne than she’d thought; she was being embarrassingly loosed-lipped. Cash only smiled again, politely ignoring her insidious blush. 

“You think?”

“Per your logic, everyone does,” she pointed out, drumming her nails on the oak bar top. When he dimmed a bit, she softened. 

“But yes, I think you deserve it more than most.”

Cash gave a sheepish laugh as he looked down at the scuffed chukka boots her wore, and Nesta found herself adding, “She’s a lucky girl, Cash. The woman you end up with.”

It was truer than he even knew, and harder to bear than she’d expected. She had a sudden image of Cash in the arms of some unknown brunette beauty, and she felt her hands curling to fists. 

She was on dangerous ground, and she knew it. She couldn’t figure out for the life of her why she hadn’t retreated to safer territory yet. 

“I should get home,” she said, draining her glass. “Thank you for celebrating with me.”

He grinned. 

“Thank you for an excuse to drink champagne on a Tuesday. And before you embarrass us both by trying to pay for this bottle, let me make a proposition instead.”

Nesta huffed and made to protest, but he cut her off. 

“You know it’s nothing like that, so don’t get shirty with me. Just—come next Saturday. Tastings go much easier when there are people there who know what they’re looking for in a good wine, and I promised Leo I would give him something to work with. He’s French, so he gets fussy like that. And if you come, I can just put the bottle on his company’s tab. He works for one of the biggest distributors in France, so they won’t mind.”

“How long have you been cooking this scheme up?” She asked, and he grinned.

“Since about the word ‘celebrating’. Do we have a deal?”

He even extended a hand, and she bit her lip as she considered. 

“I still have to talk it over with Tomás. But yes, I will—tentatively be there.”

She slipped her hand into his, and he squeezed gently as his smile returned. 

“But you have to let me pay for the bottle if I don’t end up making it.”

Cash rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll add it to your tab, I promise.”

“Fair enough,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll will let you know on Tuesday when Tomás gets back into town.”

Cash laughed, though the sound was a bit hollow. 

“How? You don’t have my number.”

Nesta bit her lip, resisting the urge to shift on her feet. She and Tomás had given each other permission into their respective phones, and though it wasn’t a privilege he often exercised, she knew that if he did and saw Cash’s number, he’d freak. It would certainly be the end to their coming to the tasting.  

“I’ll—call the shop.”

All the playfulness melted from Cash’s expression as his mouth tightened. 

“Are you serious, Nes?”

“What does it matter?” She shot back, needing to go on the defensive. “You’re always here anyways.”

“That’s not what concerns me.”

“I don’t know what you’re even talking about.”

He crossed his bruising arms across his chest, his tone brittle in a way that belied he usual ease. 

“Oh really? Then look me in the eye and tell me that—as your friend—I have nothing to be concerned about.”

“Goodbye, Cassian,” she said. “I’ll be in touch.”

She turned to the door and heard him swear under his breath.

“Nesta.“

She tightened her grip on the leather strap of her handbag, fighting the urge to turn back to him as she left the shop.

————————————————-

“What’s going on with you?” Hélion asked from where he lounged on the sofa, watching as Cash straightened the collar of a fresh button-down in the mirror. 

They were currently in in the apartment above the shop, which Devlon had bought when such things were still possible to afford in North Beach. He’d agreed to let Cash stay there while he was in Hawaii, provided Cash didn’t change anything. 

So far, he’d  had the place painted, replaced the dated backsplash in the kitchen, and bought a new couch. A contractor was coming the following week to talk about taking down a wall in the living room and gutting the master bath.

“What do you mean?” Cash said, shrugging into the burgundy blazer slung over a nearby armchair.

Hélion eyed him critically for another moment.

“That’s the third time you’ve changed your shirt.”

Hélion continued his brazen assessment before snapping his fingers in realization.

“There’s someone coming you want to impress. Who is it? Investor for your mythical vineyard?”

Cash cleared his throat.

“No, I’m—still working on that.”

Hélion smirked.

“Ah, okay. Who is she, then?”

Cash fought not to tense. This wasn’t a conversation he really wanted to have right now. Despite the voicemail he’d gotten from Nesta on Thursday at the shop informing him she’d be coming with two guests, he was terrified to get his hopes up knowing it was still entirely possible she wouldn’t show. 

“Who is who?” 

Hélion rolled his eyes.

“The woman you’re clearly trying to impress. And if you don’t tell me, know that I can get it out of Mor when she arrives.”

Cash felt his palms beginning to sweat. 

“It’s—not like that.”

Hélion smirked.

“No? Certainly seems like ‘that’ to me.”

“She’s got a serious boyfriend.” 

“A boyfriend isn’t a husband, Cashish,” Hélion said in a coo. “Besides, who could resist all this devilish charm?”

“Don’t make it weird,” Cash warned.

“Me?” Hélion said in mock offront. “Never! Come on, tell me more about her. She must be something if she’s caught your picky eye.”

“I’m not—“ Cash shook his head. “We’re just friends.”

“Non,” Hélion said. “You like her. You’re smitten, I can tell. What’s her name?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“What? Why not? I only want to know who I need to charm tonight. I will help make her yours.”

“For fuck’s sake, Leo,” Cash said, unsure whether to be exasperated or warmed by his friend’s meddling. “She’s bringing her boyfriend.”

Hélion bubbled his lips and gave a dismissive flick of his wrist.

“I hate him already. He’s a swine! A wretch! Totally unworthy of her!”

“I actually think he might be,” Cash admitted, and at his tone Hélion straightened, setting down his glass.

“What do you mean?”

Cash blew out a breath, trying to keep his anger in check as he remembered the look on Nesta’s face when he’d suggested she take his number. Normally he might have taken it as a sign that she was more interested in him than she let on, but it hadn’t been guilt he’d seen in her eyes; it’d been fear.

“Allô!” Hélion said, snapping his fingers to get Cash’s attention again. “What does that mean?”

“He’s totally controlling; demanding to know where she is all the time, I think going through her phone—I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel right to me.”

“Have you met him?”

“No,” Cash admitted. “But Dev has, and he said the same. He said that he’s very territorial over Nesta, and that I should keep my distance.”

“Nesta,” Hélion said with a satisfied smirk. “That’s very pretty.”

Cash flipped him a foul hand gesture before turning back to the mirror. He sighed before continuing.

“I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t get her out of my head. And it would be bad enough knowing she’s got a boyfriend, but this prick—“ Cash shook his head. “I hate thinking of her in a bad relationship.”

“Maybe she just needs someone to show her there’s a better way,” Hélion said, and Cash huffed.

“Don’t tease me. This sucks enough as-is.”

“Non,” Hélion said. “No teasing. She clearly likes you, Cash, or else she wouldn’t be coming tonight.”

“She’s coming with him.”

“Then she must like you very much, to risk upsetting him just to see you.”

“I don’t want to put her in a bad spot.”

“But...?” Hélion prompted.

“But what?”

“But you do want her.”

Cash groaned, slumping down on the arm of the sofa.

“How could I not? She’s brilliant, and thoughtful, and witty. And God—so fucking gorgeous. She might honestly be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Hélion gave an amused snort.

“The man’s in love.”

“I’m not in love,” Cash protested before pausing. “And it doesn’t matter, anyway. She’s got her sod of a boyfriend, and I just got her to admit we’re friends; I can’t mess things up.”

“Okay,” Hélion said, holding up his hands in submission. “I won’t say anything to her.”

Cash let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Thank you.”

“But say the word, and I will seduce the boyfriend and clear the path for you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Cash muttered, and Hélion smirked.

“So far as I know, you’re the only man who’s been able to successfully to resist me, straight or otherwise.”

“Az,” Cash pointed out, turning to the mirror to pull his hair back. 

Hélion rolled his eyes.

“He’s just being obstinate to spite me.”

“I’ll let him know you’re onto him.”

Hélion smirked and settled back into his seat. 

“Can you imagine what he must look like naked?”

“As his friend, I try not to. Shall we?”

Hélion rose, straightening his immaculate heather gray slacks as he did. Cash shook his head.

“I don’t know how you’re wearing that sweater. It’s bloody August.”

Hélion straightened the collar of the turtleneck self-importantly. 

“I’m French,” Hélion sniffed. “The laws of nature don’t apply to me.”

“That’s not at all how that works,” Cash pointed out. “But suit yourself.”

They descended the stairs to find the servers Cash had hired readying the place at Mor’s direction. The dining table had been set with the appropriate glasses, and flutes were arranged neatly on trays, waiting for champagne. 

“Looks good,” Cash told her in greeting, coming over to kiss her cheek. “Almost good enough to justify flying you all the way out here from London.”

“Please,” Mor said, batting his cheek. “I flew myself out here, you ungrateful plant pot.” She spotted Hélion and shoved Cash back. “Leo, there you are! Come give me a kiss.”

Cash only barely managed to get out of the way as Hélion slid a hand around Mor’s waist and pulled her to him. She draped her arms over his shoulders and pecked him on the lips. Cash only barely managed to fend off a groan of disgust, and Mor only flashed him a quick hand gesture before her eyes settled back into Hélion, who still had a possessive hand pressed to her low back.

“How are you, mon cœur?” She purred, and Hélion gave her an appreciative up-down.

“Better, now you’re here. Oh, and Cash has a woman coming tonight.”

Cash snarled.

“What part of ‘be cool’ did you not understand?”

“You are?” Mor demanded, turning to punch him in the arm. “Who?”

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Cash said, feeling sour for having to repeat it out loud. 

“So? Never seen a defender you couldn’t score on. What’s her name?”

“None of your—“

“Nesta.”

Cash screwed his eyes up, rubbing his temple. 

“Leo, for fuck’s sake.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mor asked. “This is so exciting! I haven’t seen you interested in someone in—“ she paused to think. “I honestly can’t remember the last time.”

“She’s got a serious boyfriend,” Cash said, annoyed at having to repeat himself. “And she’s my friend, so please don’t scare her off with your meddling.”

Mor toss her blonde waves off her shoulder. 

“I don’t meddle.”

Cash pursed his lips. 

“Tell that to Az’s love life.”

“That’s different. Without my help, poor lamb’s going to die alone.”

“I can think of someone I know who could make him feel properly loved up,” Hélion said with a smirk, and Cash rolled his eyes. 

“Leave him alone, both of you. Leo, if you want someone to flirt with, go back to London and bother Rhys. He’ll be more than happy to oblige you.”

“Tempting,” Hélion admitted. “But he’ll flirt with anyone. Besides, there’s just something about that pouty mouth of Azriel’s that drives me crazy.”

“Let’s just get the champagne opened,”  Cash said, not wanting to discuss his friends’ love lives anymore. 

He gestured to the servers, and Hélion glanced at the label of the nearest bottle and frowned.

“Bollinger? I thought we’d agreed on Moët.”

Cash shrugged. 

“I changed my mind.”

Hélion narrowed his eyes. 

“Fine,” Hélion sniffed. “But no more changes. I made these selections for a reason.”

Cash grinned. 

“You’re afraid I’ll pull something something you don’t know, you mean.”

Hélion gave him a dirty look, and Cash laughed. 

“I haven’t changed anything else,” he promised. 

At this the door chimed, and Cash’s heart rate picked up. Forcing himself not the react in a way his friends might notice, he nodded towards the door. 

“Go, minions. Be charming, make people feel welcome.” He grabbed Hélion by the elbow as he made to strut off. 

“Not too friendly. This is an elegant tasting, not a live sex show.”

Helion grinned, teeth bright against his dark skin. 

“Afraid I’ll meet your Nesta and win her away from you?”

“No, because you lay even one line on her and she’s probably punch your lights out. Get out of here.”

Hélion laughed, clapping Cash in the shoulder even as his eye snagged on fetching red head who was already smiling at him. 

Cash found as people trickled in that he was too wound up to mingle, so he busied himself in the back instead, helping pull bottles and making sure the hor d’euorvers looked the way he wanted. 

When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out to find a text from Hélion.

Come to the front. 

Swearing under his breath, Cash did as a instructed to find Hélion waiting for him at the bar. 

“What is it?”

Hélion shrugged. 

“Nothing. But you need to be out here. It’s strange for your to lurk in the back like the hunchback in his tower. Have a glass of champagne and relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“That’s exactly what a tense person would say,” Hélion said. “Go talk to people.”

“I will as soon as—“

He broke off as he watched Hélion eyes skate over his shoulder and light up. 

“What?” he demanded.

Helion smiled, eyes flicking back to Cash. 

“I think your Nesta just walked in.”

Cash’s throat went dry. His first instinct was to whip around, and he forced himself to relax his posture. 

“Merde, you weren’t joking,” Hélion said, gaze going over Cash’s shoulder. “She’s—fetching. Who’s the woman with her?”

“Her younger sister, I think.”

Hélion’s grin grew sleepy and slightly wicked, and Cash shook his head.

“Nesta will flay you alive.”

Hélion only shrugged before looking back and cocking his head slightly. 

“C'est intéressant...” he mused, tapping his fingers against his lips in mock bemusement. 

Cash grit his teeth. 

“What’s interesting?” 

Hélion’s smile was a feral thing, one that reminded Cash of a fox.

“I don’t see a gentleman with her,” Hélion finished. 

Unable to resist any longer, Cash turned, his pulse drumming a lulling beat in his belly as he drank Nesta in. 

She was dressed more provocatively then he’d ever seen her, and it made his mouth dry as he took her in. The slinky navy cocktail dress she wore hung off her body as if it had been made  for her, highlighting her gorgeous small breasts and lean legs. 

She’s yet to see him, but his heart sped up as the woman next to her, who was undoubtedly Elain, turned her head in his direction. Elain gave him a delightfully unsubtle up-down before she leaned over to whisper in her sister’s ear.

Something warm began to pool in Cash stomach as Nesta’s gaze snapped to him and she flushed. 

He smiled in greeting, feeling pleased when she took Elain’s hand and started towards him.

“Go away,” Cash hissed to Hélion. 

“But—“

“I’ll introduce you later. Buzz off.”

Hélion huffed before retreating, and Cash fought not to fidget or look too eager as Nesta approached. She dark hair fell in a satiny curtain down her back, and he imagined bunching it is hands as he kissed her neck, peeling off that dress so he could...

“Cash, hi.”

He flashed what he hoped as an easy smile. He wanted to kiss her cheek the way he might have with someone like Mor, but given everything, he doubted she’d appreciate it. 

“Nesta,” he said, taking in the hint of her cool, sharp perfume as she came closer. “Glad you could make it.” 

She smiled, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. He admired the elegant line of her wrist as she did, marveling that wrists could even be attractive. Hers were, though. They were gorgeous. 

“Thank you for inviting us.”

At this she put a hand on her sister’s back. 

“This is my sister, Elain. Ellie, this is my friend Cassian.”

Hearing her said the word “friend” had giddy delight crashing through him, and he forced himself to look at Elain instead. 

She gave him a bright, easy smile, and he immediately liked her. 

“Lovely to finally meet you, Cassian,” she said as they shook hands

“Cash, please. Honestly, I feel like I know you already. Nesta’s always bragging about you.”

Elain gave a sheepish laugh, doe brown eyes sparkling. Like her sister, Elain was beautiful, though hers was a much softer, more angelic thing: the fresh-faced Disney heroine to Nesta sultry villainess. She was of a curvier build as well, her figure voluptuous where Nesta’s was willowy. 

If Az was here, he’d be drooling all over the floor. He was a sucker for big tits and brown eyes, even if he was too much of a gentleman to ever admit as much out loud. 

“Well that’s embarrassing,” Elain said. “It’s not like I’m going to cure cancer or something.”

“No it’s not,” Nesta said. “You deserve it. You’re brilliant, El.”

Elain blushed before turning back to Cash. 

“I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you, too.” Elain continued. “It’s good to put a name to the face.”

Cash grinned at Nesta, whose mouth has pinched into a pert frown. 

“You been bragging about me too, Archeron?”

Nesta sniffed in a way Cash now knew signified she’d been caught off balance. 

“Hardly. It’s Claire who can’t shut up about you.”

Elain gave a delicate laugh. 

“It’s true,” she admitted. “I think she’s got a crush on you. She still hasn’t stopped talking about that red Nesta served at her dinner party. No one could; did Nes tell you?”

Cash laughed when Nesta rolled her eyes. 

“Your sister isn’t in the habit of giving me compliments, unfortunately. But thank you, it’s nice to know you liked it.”

“I loved it,”Elain corrected. “You should come to the next party and listen to everyone fawn yourself.”

Cash glanced to Nesta to gauge her reaction, afraid to find her expression disapproving. She wore a sardonic smile instead. 

“Before you say yes, please keep in mind that Claire will be there, and there won’t be a bar or a stock room to shield you from her attentions.”

Cash grinned. 

“You’re not going to protect my virtue?”

Nesta pursed her lips to hide a smirk. 

“As if there’s any left to protect.”

“I will,” Elain assured him, grinning as she touched his arm. “We’ve known Claire for ages, but she can get a little—predatory.”

“Yes, a scrawny thing like you, who knows what she might do if she caught you alone,” Nesta added dryly. 

Cash laughed, and unable to resist showing off a little, he crossed his arms across his chest and said, “Archeron, I’m pretty sure I could bench your weight about five times over.”

“Doubtful,” Nesta shot back, eyes glittering with the challenge. “I weigh over 300 pounds.”

“What a coincidence; I bench 1,500.”

“Well congratulations on setting a world record, then. The last I heard, it was 1,075.”

Elain watched them, a grin on her face before she cut in, “Will you excuse me? I have to use the restroom.”

“I’ll come with you,” Nesta said immediately, and Elain gave her a hard look. 

“Don’t need any help, thanks.” She brushed a friendly hand down Cash’s arm. “Nice to meet you again.”

With that she slipped away, leaving them alone. 

“She’s cute,” Cash said when she’d gone. 

Nesta smiled, eyes softening in a way they only ever did for her sisters. 

“Isn’t she?” 

They watched in silence as Elain sauntered off before Nesta turned to give him a thorough once-over.

“You look—nice.”

Cash laughed, basking under her careful attention as her eyes swept from his blazer to his caramel dress shoes.

“Do I not usually?”

She flushed before pursing her lips.

“The joggers certainly gave me pause.”

He grinned, wanting to see if he could make her blush again. 

“I try to avoid them in mixed company. It’s unfair to the women present. Too distracting.”

She rolled her eyes. 

“I managed them just fine.”

“Or so you claim. But you easily could have been checking me out when my back was turned.”

She rolled her eyes. 

“Get over yourself. Your ass is not as cute as you clearly think it is.”

He flashed her a smirk, seeing the opportunity her comment presented and finding himself unable to resist. 

“And how would you know?”

She flushed, and he felt his belly tighten, even as he grinned.

“Gotcha.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t offer a retort, and the realization she had been checking him left him feeling giddy. That was, until he remembered who’d she was supposed to have with her that evening. 

“So,” he said. “No Tomás?”

He tried to keep the hopefulness from his tone, unsure if he’d succeeded as Nesta straightened.

“He’s running late. But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

Cash felt his heart sink.

“I can’t say that I was,” he admitted quietly. 

“Was what?” She said, tone flatter than before.  

“Worried he’d be here.”

He hated the way her face pinched at that, the light in hey eyes dimming. 

“Don’t start, Cash.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Her expression darkened. 

“You didn’t have to. Please, promise me you’ll play nice. I think you two might really hit it off.”

Cash knew he would never like this prick and that the feeling was certain to be mutual, but afraid of pushing her away, he only smiled. 

“I’m sure we will. You look lovely, by the way.”

Nesta looked down under the guise of smoothing her skirt, but he suspected it was really to hide another blush. God, she was killing him tonight. He wanted to kiss her so bad it hurt. 

“Thank you,” she said finally. “It’s new. I don’t usually like this color, but—“

“It suits you,” he said, and though he wanted to push the issue, he knew he’d gone as far as he’d dared.

Reaching behind her, he grabbed a forgotten tray of champagne, passing her a flute and taking one for himself.

They were silent a moment as they both took a sip, and Nesta nodded in approval.

“Bollinger,” she said. “Should I be flattered?”

He shrugged, sure she was seeing through him.

“I’d forgotten just how good it was until you reminded me. I figured I’d help remind everyone else, too.”

“Good,” she said with a small smile. “I would hate to think you were just trying to impress me again; you know I’m immune to your charm.”

“But you do admit I’m charming,” he said with a grin. “I’ll take it.”

She considered this, eyes sparkling.

“I admit nothing,” she sniffed, taking another sip.

He laughed.

“Of course you don’t. It’s fine, my ego can take it.”

She snorted.

“That I don’t doubt.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence as Nesta turned to survey the room. Cash watched her in profile, admiring the narrow bridge of her nose and the dusting of freckles she’d clearly tried to conceal under her makeup. She was so lovely it made his chest ache.

Knowing he had to stop staring before she caught him, Cash turned to watch the crowd milling around instead.

“So no Graysen either, huh? I’m oddly disappointed.”

Nesta huffed. 

“Elain was going to bring him, but they got in a tiff earlier and now they aren’t speaking.”

“Why don’t you seem happier about that?”

“Because this happens all the time. I can’t emotionally invest in the hope they’re actually break up; the disappointment is too bitter. Please just tell me there’s someone here to distract her. What about your friend Azriel? Vanity Fair seems to think he’s single.”

Cash laughed.

“Az is still in LA; he generally avoids mingling with strangers, even for my sake. And my friend Leo was practically foaming at the mouth when she walked in, but I don’t think he’s the kind of guy you want dating your baby sister. He’s something of a...philanderer.”

“I’m not concerned,” Nesta said. “One thing I will say for Elain: she’s not easily wooed. I think she honestly gets hit on so much it doesn’t phase her anymore. Besides, she’s annoyingly loyal to Graysen. Tell your friend to do his worst; he’s not going to win her over.”

“Why do I get the sense that pleases you?”

She flashed him her Disney Villainess smirk again, and he felt his skin prickle in arousal.

“Because it makes me feel like I raised her right; weird blind spot for Graysen aside, Elain knows who she is, and doesn’t let others try and tell her different—especially men.”

“What about Feyre?”

Nesta expression grew more devilish. 

“Fey’s more like me. She didn’t need to be taught how to shred men to ribbons. It’s instinct for her, and she’s damn good at it.” Nesta pursed her lips. “I just wish she’d use it a bit more often.”

“She’ll get tired of kissing frogs eventually,” Cash offered. “You remember what it was like at 19.”

“I didn’t date until I was 19.”

Cash smiled.

“What was your first boyfriend like? I’m imagining either a geeky engineering major or an uptight Shakespeare nerd.”

“Neither,” she said, taking another sip of champagne. “He was a gorgeous Portuguese exchange student.” 

He chuckled, even if some of his amusement had soured.

“You really have a type, don’t you?”

When she gave him a pointed look, he felt his heart sink. 

“Tomás was your first boyfriend?”

It explained a lot. The blind loyalty, the way she seemed to capitulate to him when she didn’t for others. 

“Some people are just lucky, I guess.”

“In what way?”

She shrugged.

“To get it right on the first try.”

It hurt—physically hurt—to hear her say it, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from blurting something petulant.  Instead he forced himself to shrug.

“I guess I wouldn’t know. My first girlfriend’s name was Becky, and she was the actual worst.”

“The fact she chose to go by Becky didn’t tip you off?”

“Looking back, it was the first of many warning signs.”

Nesta laughed, and Cash felt some of his bitterness fading. They were friends, he reminded himself. She’d claimed him as her friend, and as far as he was concerned, that made him the luckiest guy in the world. Her relationship with Tomás wasn’t any of his business. If she was happy, he’d be happy for her. 

Over Nesta’s shoulder, Cash spotted Hélion trying to get his attention by tapping his watch.

“I should probably start getting people settled,” he said. “Do you want us to wait for Tomás?”

Nesta bit her lip. He knew she hated when people did her favors, and he suspected she was embarrassed that it was her boyfriend holding things up. 

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. “I’m sure he’ll be here soo—“

The doorbell chimed, and Cash didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He fought down a searing stab of annoyance as Nesta raised her hand in greeting, choosing to glance at his own watch instead. 

“Querida,” a smooth voice called. “There you are.”

Cash thought about trying to use the opportunity to make his escape, but he knew Nesta would see that for the cowardice it was and be annoyed he wasn’t playing nice like he’d promised. 

Instead he turned, watching the well-dressed man making his way towards them. He was of rather average height and build, Cash noticed with satisfaction, though his face was classically handsome. Between the way his dark hair was pomaded away from his face and the fact he wore no socks in his Armani loafers—despite being dressed in slacks and a blazer—Cash thought he probably worked at a hedge fund. 

Of course he did, the little prick. 

The minute he was close enough, Tomás caught Nesta by the elbow and hugged her into him for a wanton kiss. 

Cash bristled at seeing Nesta stiffen, clearly embarrassed. She should be, he thought sourly. It was like the beginning of a bad porno. 

After a second Nesta pulled away, flushing a little as she dabbed at her lips. Tomás kept a proprietary hand on her low back. 

“Where’s your phone?” Tomás said in Portuguese, ignoring Cash entirely. “I called you twice.”

“It’s on silent,” Nesta said. “I’m sorry.”

Tomás pursed his lips in unveiled irritation before finally seeming to take note they weren’t alone. Cash felt a grim satisfaction when Tomás had to tilt his chin up to meet Cash’s eye. 

“Tomás, this is Cassian. He owns the shop.”

Not friends anymore, Cash noted with disappointment. Acquaintances, if best. The fact she wasn’t willing to admit to any degree of familiarity in front of Tomás was monstrously telling, and it made him hate the asshole even more.

Tomás tossed a casual glance in Cash’s direction, and though his smile was placid, his gaze was cold. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shifting Nesta in his arms so he could extend a hand. 

Cash could tell she was uncomfortable that he hadn’t released her, and he fought the urge to break Tomás’s fingers as they shook hands.

“I suppose I have you to thank for all the exquisite wine I’ve been drinking lately,” Tomás  said, smiling down at Nesta before letting his eyes drift back to Cash. 

Cash shrugged. If Nesta wanted or needed to downplay their interaction for the sake of her relationship then he’d oblige her. 

“I guess. Though Nesta’s got great taste on her own. She doesn’t need my help.”

“She doesn’t need anyone’s help. Right, querida?”

Nesta’s laugh was tinny and hollow as she finally extricated herself from Tomas’s grip until the pretense of looking around. 

“I’m going to go find Elain,” she said, leaning over to peck Tomás again. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Tomás said, and Cash wanted to punch him for the tone he used, as if he were granting her permission. “Come right back.”

Nesta nodded her agreement and headed off, and though Cash expected Tomás to follow, he stayed, flashing a much cooler look as he took Nesta’s abandoned glass from the bar. 

He raised it, and when Cash raised his, Tomás said in Portuguese, his tone light as if he were making an actual toast, “I don’t like you.”

Fucking coward. 

Cash only flashed a grim smile, clinking his glass to Tomás’s and replying in English, “I don’t really give a shit.”

Tomás’s oily, self-satisfied smirk curled into a sneer, and Cash found himself bracing his feet a little farther apart on the floor. He guessed they were really doing this, then.

“Stay away from Nesta,” Tomás spit out. “She’s none of your concern.”

“And she’s not your property,” Cash shot back. “So why don’t you try treating her with a little respect?”

“Fuck you.”

Cash let out a bitter laugh. 

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“Stay out of our business, bugre.”

Cash took a step in Tomás’s direction, teeth bared. 

“What did you just call me?”

It was a slur Cash hadn’t heard since he’d left Brazil, but it wasn’t one he could ever forget. It had gotten him into more than one fight growing up, and even now, it still made some part of him burn.  

Tomás had the good sense to take a step back, even as he bared his own teeth. 

“Stay away from Nesta,” he said again. “Or I will make you very sorry.”

Cash snarled.

“First you insult me, and now you’re threatening me? Tread lightly, caralho. You don’t want to fuck with me.”

“What’s going on?”

Both men looked up to see Nesta approaching, brows drawn. 

“We’re leaving,” Tomás said, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go.”

“Leave? You just got here.” 

Nesta spared Cash the briefest glance as Tomás tried to pull her along behind him.

“I have a headache,” Tomás said curtly. “Get your things.” 

“I have Elain with me—“

“Give her your keys; she can bring your car home.”

People had begun looking now, and Nesta tugged her hand from Tomás’s, flushing.

“You’re embarrassing me,” she said quietly.

“I have a headache,” he said more forcefully. “Are you expecting me sit here and suffer?”

“No, but—“

“Good, then let’s go.”

Unable to stand by any longer, Cash intervened. 

“Nesta—“

“Stay out of this,” Tomás snarled. He turned to Nesta. “Let’s go. Now, please.”

Nesta looked rather helplessly towards Elain, who was trying to make her way over to them. 

“I need to—“ she gestured to her sister, and Tomás mouth tightened. 

“Do what you need to and let’s go. I’ll be waiting in the car. Two minutes, querida.”

With a final sour look he stormed off, slamming the door as he left. 

“Prick,” Cash muttered, and Nesta whirled on him. 

He expected her to snap at him, but instead she pursed her lips, looking down at her feet for a moment before glancing back up at him. 

“I’m sorry,” she said tightly, and he realized what he’d been interpreting as annoyance was  actually her attempting not to cry. “I have to go.”

“No,” Cash said, touching her chin gently to win her gaze back from the floor. “You don’t.”

She brushed him off immediately. 

“Yes, I do. Have a nice evening, and please make sure my sister gets home safe.”

“Nesta—“

By now Elain has arrived beside them, and Nesta pulled out her keys and stuffed them into her sister’s hand. 

“Don’t drive if you feel like you’ve had to much to drink. I can come get the car tomorrow if need be.”

“I’ll come with you,” Elain offered, but Nesta was already shaking her head. 

“No, you stay. Tomás just isn’t feeling well, so I’m going to take him home.”

“For fuck’s said, Nes. You don’t have to do this!”

Nesta flashed Cash a searing look. 

“Please don’t make this worse. Ellie, I’ll see you back at the house. Have a good time.”

She brushed a hurried kiss to Elain’s cheek, and before Cash could protest again, she was striding for the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he called, and she only raised a hand in salutation before disappearing. 

“It’s not your fault,” Elain said from his side. Her voice was quiet but bitter. “It’s always like this. I’m going to try and smooth things over. He’s—less harsh when I’m there.”

Cash could hear his heart beating in his ears, every instinct roaring at him to go to the parking lot and beat Tomás bloody. Nesta might hate him for it, but at least then he’d know she’d be safe.

“Is she going to be alright with him?” He asked Elain, and she pursed her lips. 

She knew what he was asking, and she nodded. 

“I’ll make sure she is.”

“Will you call me?” He asked, knowing he sounded desperate and not caring. “And let me know everything’s—okay?”

She nodded, handing her his phone so he could enter his number. When he handed it back, she gave her another soft smile, this one edged in a sadness and regret and broke his heart. 

“It really was nice meeting you, Cassian. I hope I—see you again sometime. ” 

She patted his arm before she too was leaving. 

He swore until his breath when they’d both gone, furious and terrified in equal measure. Furious at Tomás for the slur, and for dragging Nesta out like a rag doll, and terrified that despite Elain’s reassurance, something bad might happen to her because of him.  

More selfishly than that, he was terrified that he’d never see her again. She’d been lying to Tomás about coming to the Merchant before he even knew Cash existed. Now he’d be watching her even more closely. The thought made him sick, as did his powerlessness to help her. 

“What the hell was that?”

Cash turned to find Mor behind him, brows drawn. Hélion, he noted gratefully, had corralled the other attendees and was beginning a speech about the history of the Bollinger and it’s flavor profile. 

“Her boyfriend is an abusive prick,” Cash grit out. “And I just lost my cool.”

“Why didn’t you go after her?”

“And make things worse? I’m sure sure she hates me enough already.”

“Are you worried about her? Maybe you should call Ro, have him send over some unis for a wellness check?”

“I thought about it, but her sister said she’d call me. If I don’t hear from her in the next fifteen minutes, I will.”

His and Nesta’s friendship, he feared, was already destroyed. The least he could do now was make sure she’s alright.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mor breathed, lacing her fingers through his and resting her head on his shoulder. “I can tell you really like her. If it helps, she likes you, too. That’s why her boyfriend hated you so much.”

“It doesn’t. And I don’t think it matters, anyway. I doubt she’ll be back after that.”

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out. 

Hi, it’s Elain Archeron. I just got to Nesta’s, and Tomás is gone already. Guess his “headache” worse than we thought. 

Cash let out a breath. 

I’m glad. Please tell her—

He paused. Tell her what? That despite the fact he hardly knew her, he couldn’t stop thinking about her? That hearing her laugh was like hearing the voice of God, and seeing her with Tomás had been like a knife to the gut?

He backspaced before trying again.

Thanks for letting me know. xx

Elain’s response came at once.

Thank you for caring about her. She deserves that. ❤️ 

Cash blew out a breath as he read it, something tightening in his chest.

“How can I help?” Mor asked.

Cash straightened his blazer, forcing a broad smile as Hélion introduced him and he waved.

“Scout the talent,” he said, scanning the bevy of beautiful, eligible women who were now smiling in his direction. “I need someone to make me forget, at least for tonight.”

“Forget what? Her, or the fight?”

Cash sighed.

“All of it.”

PREVIOUS CHAPTER              NEXT CHAPTER 

 TAGLIST: @bookofmaas @katexrenee @overgrown-bat @sezkins79 @city-of-fae  @mightymorphingayagenda @abillionlittlepieces @illyrianbeauty @wesupremeginger @marnz @toallthefandomsivelovedbefore @empress-ofbloodshed @actuallyacotartrash @tswaney17 @keshavomit @songlyricsincludingthewordfjord @run-as-fast-as-you-caan @donnarosemary @my-fan-side @kingdomofbrokenhearts @dayanna-hatter @verifiefangirl @mariamuses @blxckbeak @goldbooksblack @skychild29 @marry28sstuff @starlightheir @light-in-the-shadows72 @rhysanoodle @pilesofriles @awesomethreedragons @a-novel-blog @thevodkaaunt @booksapphic @my-fan-side @toallthefandomsivelovedbefore @run-as-fast-as-you-caan @donnarosemary @actuallyacotartrash @queenofillea1 @queen-of-wings-and-fire @willsrune

[rainandhotchocolate]

Tutors Pet - Part 3

A/N Part 1-2 on my profile! Praying that this shows up in tags so I’m not sad and think everyone hates my writing :’( (I joke I promise) - anyways sorry for taking so long, the new year has so far been a bit of a process for me, but I’m hopefully back back now! This didn’t go at all the way I had planned lel so I hope it still works, anyway enjoy :)

P3

It was the little things. The little touches under the table at breakfast, grazing her thigh in the Three Broomsticks, brushing hands in their now shared potions class. The hushed kisses in empty hallways and behind secret passageways (that Sirius and James had shown them, very unnecessarily in the middle of the night under an invisibility cloak that was far too small for 4 teenagers) were definitive perks of dating Lily Evans.

Unfortunately, this very moment was not so much. Y/N watched sourly as Lily chatted animatedly to a boy who was clearly infatuated with her, I mean who wouldn’t she thought gruffly to herself, a little annoyed at her great taste in girls. As much as she knew there was absolutely no reason to be jealous, she could still feel her chest tightening as he casually grazed her arm. If she could just walk over there, sling an arm over her shoulder and kiss her on the cheek, just obnoxiously enough for him to be a little- Lily swung around to look at Y/N and broke her train of thought as she moved to face her breakfast again, avoiding Lily’s bright green stare.

“Smooth moves, Y/L/N” Lily suddenly whispered from behind her before joining Y/N at the Gryffindor table.

“I try” Y/N grumbled, desperately trying to hide her blushing face.

“Not spying on me are you” Lily raised an eyebrow, picking up two slices of taste and a dollop of jam.

“Not spying…just watching” Y/N groaned, “creepily, from afar”

“At least you’re honest” Lily chuckled loudly, “He wasn’t asking me out you know”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just, sometimes hate having to hide… use you know”

Lily grinned, sighing as she took a bite of toast. The hall around them was buzzing, filled with people all getting extremely excited for the holidays. The Hufflepuffs currently had a long ball of string hovering in the air and was knitting a long yellow and black Christmas scarf to wrap around the entrance to the kitchen, as per last year and the Slytherin’s were sending paper airplanes into the biggest holes in the scarf.

“I know, but you know it-“

“Makes sense for now, especially with people disappearing, I know I know” Y/N recited, if only a little bit sarcastic. Lily smiled at her all the same and poked her cheek as Y/N chewed on her cereal.

“Look, how about we go have a proper date this weekend – just the two of us” Lily looked down at her, pouting a little.

“Don’t you have Prefect duties all weekend?”

“Oh shoot” Lily bit her lip, turning back to her toast. Y/N felt a little dip in her stomach as she tried to hide her disappointment.

“It’s ok we-“

“No, it’s not ok! I can’t believe we haven’t had a proper date, just the two of us, not pretending to be out with the boys so we can hold hands without anyone noticing this is stupid. Let me just, hang on, gimme like 3 hours ok?” She grinned broadly, squeezed Y/N’s hand and jumped out of her seat, heading out of the Great Hall.

Y/N didn’t see Lily for the rest of the day, she sat wondering what was going on as Professor Binns droned on and on about something regarding the elfish wars in the 1800s.

“What are you doodling there, missy” Louisa Prette whispered next to her, winking suggestively. Y/N tried to hold back a grin, but Louisa had a way of getting under her skin and stopping her sulking.

“Nothing in particular” Y/N mumbled, trying to pull it away as Binns floated around the room and near her seats. Lousia managed to wrangle it out of her hand and made a soft squealing noise.

“Don’t tell me, Y/N’s finally got a lil crush?” Lousia grinned broadly, “WHY would you not tell me! You know I’ve been waiting to pass down my wisdom”

“What from your one date with Xavier McLaggen? I would have thought that would be more about what not to do”

“I have plenty of experience, missy, now tell me tell me tell-“

“Was there something more important to discuss Miss Prette” Professor Binns drawled slowly, staring at her absently whilst the whole class suddenly sat up from his change of pace.

“Nothing could ever be more interesting than you Professor Binns” Louisa smiled broadly, her teeth practically glistening with the amount of sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Mmmm” Professor Binns looked like he would glare if he really could but continued to glide onwards and around the classroom.

“Ok, now- spill” Lousia leaned in eagerly and grinned at her. When Y/N said nothing Lousia began to nudge her obnoxiously, “I know I’m annoying but it’s for your own good, you bottle everything up too much, gal”

“I don’t bottle things up, I talk the appropriate amount t”

“Yeah says the girl I had to ASK for her to tell me about her first kiss! Who doesn’t tell their best friend about their first kiss?”

“It didn’t come up in conversation!” Y/N said exasperatedly, feeling increasingly embarrassed.

“Stop changing the subject, so, who’s the guy?” Louisa finally asked the dreaded question. Who’s the guy. Y/N couldn’t blame her, her first kiss was with a guy, her first crush was a guy (well what she thought was a crush but was actually just a guy being nice to her), and Y/N had never indicated otherwise. But there was still a little part of her that wanted slap her for not magically presuming otherwise, or perhaps magically destroying the internal bigotry against anyone not heterosexual. Potentially too much to ask in one best friend.

“Hello, Y/N?”

“Right sorry, zoned out” Y/N smiled, “not much to say really… I mean don’t want to jinx it”

“Ugh, so paranoid” Louisa scoffed, a little too loudly and covered it over with some wild coughing (much to Professor Binns continued annoyance), “But I get it, you want him allll to yourself for a little bit huh”  

“Something like that” Y/N smiled and went back to pretending to write notes to stop her from pestering anymore. The more she wrote down random elfish sounding names the more she couldn’t stop herself from feeling more and more self-conscious. There was something about the whispers between everyone in every corner of the room that made her feel like they could only be talking about her, that there was something wrong with her, that she wasn’t normal.

“Y/N, class has ended, you can stop making up baby names” Louisa winked and shoved her lightly to go and grab her books and finally leave the classroom. The buzz of the end of the day was increasing every day the Christmas holidays got closer. There was a chill in the air that could very easily be fixed by the warm mugs of hot chocolate and pumpkin juice was served at every meal and glistening lights that looked like snow falling in the sky above the Great Hall. Y/N, however, was not so hungry and gave a lame excuse of going to the library before skulking off and back up towards the common room.

She wandered slowly, wondering why she couldn’t just stand tall like Lily does and not care about what people say or don’t say. Where was she anyway? Running around with her – shut up Y/N. She internally cursed herself for getting so negative. She looked up and realised she’d reached a part of the castle she hadn’t really explored yet. It was dark, and there were multiple knights in armour standing around large metal doors. She stood momentarily watching them as they began to creak and she heard the unmistakable sounds of someone trying to wrench them open.

“…there isn’t much time left until he’ll call us in you know”

“It’s only a matter of time”

Voices came from the door as it pulled open and Y/N came face to face with three large and vaguely recognisable Slytherin boys. One had long blonde hair and a pointy nose, Y/N had remembered him from the Slytherin Quidditch team, a beater and very fast, the other two both had dark brown hair, one long and un-showered, and the other clearly well showered and a subtly handsome.

“Who’s this, listening in” The blonde one growled, leering down at her. Y/N gaped suddenly, feeling very much like a fish but was interrupted before she got any noise out.

“You know exactly who this is” The more handsome one grinned, flashing scarily white teeth, “The youngest of the Black clan, Regulus’ sister. Don’t you remember her hexing you into St.Mungos last Christmas?”

“Of course! I wonder what she’s doing here, not trying to catch an earful I hope” The blonde continued to leer. Y/N had a sudden flashback of a very rash decision to point and shoot out a string of hexes at her mum’s favourite friends’ sons all lined up for her, leering down at her very uncomfortably tight dress as the blonde boy was doing now.

“Perhaps she needs a little lesson in manners” The slimier one finally chimed in, still standing behind the other two but somehow seeming the most menacing.

“I think you’re right” She saw a smile and then she was suddenly unable to see.

Taglist: @maraudersandco  @northscorpio @seesaw-it @lustfulcry @depressedcoffeebean @supercuteasalily @palaisdecouture @blackpinkdolan  @fashionlive15 @creepysweet 

[dxmedstudent]

Dx, which dating website/app have you been using? I’ve only ever used tinder/bumble, which while popular...I feel hasn’t worked very well. All your hints and tips have been super useful about dating! Just wondered if you thought there was any difference/ importance as to what you use.

I’m a big believer that different sites work for different people. We all have different ways of relating to people and socialising, after all! So if a particular site or app doesn’t work for you, you could always try something else. I also think, based on what I’ve read and heard, that just how the sites are populated depends a lot on where you are. So you can do your research online, but you might have to learn through experience which sites work best where you are.  You’ll have to take my advice with a pinch of salt; I can only speak as a woman who happened to be looking for a guy in my specific area. It could well be that  if you’re somewhere else, or male, or LGBTQ, or don’t want quite what I want, that my experiences might be less useful. There are some interesting articles out there that compare sites, but I know a lot depends on your own circumstances.

Whilst I was on the site, I didn’t want to say which one, for personal safety and anonymity reasons. And also, I didn’t really want to advertise any one particular service just because I happened to use it. But I’ve decided now that I’ve come off the site, I can say that I was using Match, though I’m sure they all have their good points.

I deliberately chose a well populated site, because I thought a bigger user base would be pretty useful, but also I wanted to specifically use a paid site. Because I felt that a lot of the problems associated with dating sites (dick pics, creepiness, abusive replies) are exacerbated by the feeling of anonymity and a service being free. I reckoned that if people have to pay to make the most of a site, they’ll be sufficiently invested in it to behave themselves. And also that people willing to pay money to use a service like this (when there are already free services) are probably reasonably serious about their intentions. Match is one of the sites with a reputation for people looking a bit more seriously. And it worked; no dick pics, and relatively little abuse. I did get ghosted, and lots of conversations that just didn’t go anywhere, but that’s part of dating, I guess. That said, I found no shortage of guys willing to have a decent conversation or have a first date, and I met someone I wanted to see more than once, so I’d say it worked as well as I could have hoped it would. It worked well for me because it lets you write a pretty long profile for yourself, so I felt like I could put enough of myself out there to attract people I had something in common with. And in turn, I felt I could really engage with profiles where people had written about themselves; you can get a feel for someone’s personality and sense of humor, if they’ve done it well.  And it also lets you search by lots of criteria, too, so you can focus on looking through profiles that match what you’re looking for, rather than scrolling through tons of pictures of people you’ll never click with.  As for the cons, I was really unenthused by all the options for ‘winking’ ‘favouriting’  and ‘viewing’ profiles; it encourages vague behaviour rather than genuine interaction. It used to frustrate me when some men would view my profile many times, wink at me etc but just not message; if I liked them I might have made a move, but if I didn’t, it left me in an awkward situation where I couldn’t reject someone but I didn’t exactly feel comfortable with their frequent low key stalking of my profile, either. They have an option where you can pay extra to choose what kinds of profile interact with you, but since I was happy to politely refuse, igore or block, it seemed unnecessary to pay for it. I also didn’t like that it tells people when you’re online; I just used to get bombarded by guys who happened to see I’d logged in and decided to start one of those ‘hi’ conversations, but they never really work for me. Sometimes I used to log in just to get rid of my notifications, and I like the option to mull over a message and write a nice, well thought out response when I’m free, rather than feel like I’m rejecting someone because it’s 1am after a long shift and I don’t want to chat. I preferred having long, meaningful message conversations, and I preferred to talk to people who’d clearly read my profile and engaged with it, it just felt more genuine somehow. When it comes to other apps/sites, I wanted to focus on one app at a time and use it seriously, but I considered all the options before picking one. If it hadn’t worked out for me, I would probably have added another, or switched sites.  After a while, logically you’ll already have perused all the profiles you’re interested in, and either met/chatted and ruled each other out, or just won’t be interested at all, so I don’t think staying on one site for years is a good idea, unless there’s a lot of turnover. I could easily have signed up to eHarmony instead; it looks pretty similar in terms of its userbase and reputation for users who are looking for serious relationships.However, their way of running things seems to me like they control who you get ‘matched’ to, more. And I prefer to curate my experiences myself; I don’t like the idea of a site picking people out for me based on algorithms, I’d much prefer to pick for myself. I knwo all sites control your experience to a degree, but I personally prefer sites where that’s not an active selling point. I like the illusion of free will, even if it is just that. I think that if someone feels overwhelmed by choosing, eHarmony might be great, because they send people limited matches at a time, which seem to be picked based on answers to lots of questions. In contrast, I don’t actually believe the ‘matches’ Match sent me were matched at all, and I mostly ignored them in favour of curated searches and just looking up profiles of people who’d shown interest. Tinder would never work for me; I have difficulty telling faces apart. And whilst I can appreciate features, realistically speaking it takes a lot more than that to have chemistry with someone. If I’m having a good conversation, I’ll usually value that more than someone’s profile photo; because when you meet people, they often look and feel pretty different However, some people are very visual and need to feel attracted to a photo before they want to read a profile, or else they want to get to know people through chat and dates, rather than profiles and messages. Tinder also has a bit of a reputation for being a hookup app, at least here. That doesn’t mean that you can’t find someone serious on it, though it might just be a bit harder if the clientele are often expecting something else. But, other people swear by it, so I’m sure it works for someone.OKCupid is pretty popular, and it’s free. I didn’t like the idea of answering lots of questions, I much prefer freetext typing a profile that reflects me. And I didn’t want to rule people out too easily.  A lot of dating sites like having discrete tags for you to choose from, because it makes the site more searchable. I get the impression Plenty of Fish sounds like it is even more of a mixed bag; I heard that there are lots of people on it, but without the abiltiy to apply filters to find what you’re looking for, it’s easy to get swamped. I’m sure some people have success on there, though. I’ve heard good things about Coffee Meets Bagel, but I wanted to focus on one site/app at a time. And I’m not sure I like their policy of sending very few ‘matches’ at a time. I am quite a busy person, who worked best on the app in short bursts wherein I reviewed lots of profiles, which I had to because most people just won’t be what you’re looking for. If a site is only letting me access a very small number of profiles, they’d better be VERY well chosen. But even so, I’d much rather choose for myself.I’ve never looked seriously at apps like zoosk or the newer, less well-known ones. I really don’t like the idea of dating sites that are integrated into your social media presence or physical location; that’s a huge deterrent for me, especially from a safety and privacy perspective.

I did consider the Gardian’s dating app; I’m a left-leaning person, and I reckoned that I’d find a fair few people that might be similar enough to me, given that I’m in the Southeast. I heard from junior doctor colleagues that the users on that service were predominantly ‘media types’. Despite that, it’s a service I might consider if I needed to use a dating site again sometime in the future.

I think Bumble works well for ladies who like to make the first move, and guys who are secure enough in themselves that they appreciate women making the first move. It might decrease unwanted messages. I just wasn’t sure I was ready to shoulder starting all conversation starting; I did message guys first sometimes, but I prefer to be messaged first, because it allows me to gauge someone’s level of interest and intent. For me, exchanging messages is an important way of workingout  not only if you’ve got something in common, but also whether somene is willing to put in  That said, it sounds like it attracts serious

There are some apps that are… gimmickier. I’d qualify for Elite Singles (being a doctor), but honestly, I didn’t necessarily want to tie myself to a site where people define themselves by being in a well-earning profession. I don’t believe I’m better than a postman or someone who is self-employed, and I don’t define myself by having a prestigious career or degree. And I’m wary of people who are conspicouously wealthy, because quite a few of them aren’t very nice. Having gone out in London, and mixing in educated circles, I’m no stranger to the kinds of entitled self-important person that feels their money buys whatever they want; including women. I’m not saying people who do well for themselves can’t be nice. I’m just wary of pinning my hopes on an arena where the emphasis is on financial success; that’s not what is important to me. 

I’d never qualify for the ‘dating site for attractive people’, whatever it was called. I look nice enough, but I’m a perfectly normal person with no pretensions to superior attractiveness. And to be honest, I don’t think I’d meet an appropriate partner on a site where looks are your main selling point. Similarly, there are sites like Uniform dating, which aims to pair people who wear uniforms for peopel who fetishise that. But really, would I want to date someone who thought my main draw was my job? Hmm, probably not.

But in the end, I think most sites can work, if you find one that happens to work for your style of meeting people. One of my friends found a longterm relationship on Match, someone else I know got married to someone they met on Plentyoffish, and I’m fairly sure a friend of mine’s husband was found on OKCupid.I think it’s important to be as positive as possible,  and try new things if the ones you’ve tried haven’t worked out. Sometimes it just takes a bit longer, or takes lots of tries. But it’s much harder to get anywhere if you don’t try, right?

[legendaryandroid]

You smashed a plate over my head

For @dbhrarepairs week. Prompt 3: Stars

Pairing: Gavin Reed/RK800-60

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Gavin and Sixty spend time at a park. Gavin surprises Sixty with a present.

Gavin weaved his way through the people sitting in the park, his sandals flopping against his feet. The park was crowded with chairs and blankets where people were chatting and having fun while listening to the various bands playing music. Gavin grumbled irritatedly at having to make his way through people, carrying a basket in one arm and a blanket over his shoulder. Finally he reached his destination, a single white pine a distance away from where most of the music was being performed and had fewer people around. The sight of a familiar profile had Gavin’s heart leaping and made him quicken his pace.

“Sixty!” He called waving his free hand.

Sixty turned towards the sound of Gavin’s voice, but didn’t say anything until the man was closer. “Gavin.”

“Geez babe. That’s a cold reception, not even a kiss?” Gavin said teasingly as he dropped the basket so he could spread out the blanket.

“You’re late.” Sixty stated matter-of-factly. “If you had showed up on time perhaps you would have found me in a more willing mood. Now you will never know.”

Gavin flopped onto his back on the blanket, basking in the dying rays of the summer sun. “That’s okay, I think I have something for you that’ll cheer you up.” Gavin said with a smirk and a wink.

Sixty raised an eyebrow. “You think so do you?”

“I fucking know so.” Gavin answered, then patted the blanket in an indication that Sixty should join him.

Sixty bit his lip for a moment, before finally sitting down stiffly on the blanket, knees up while he had his hands laced lightly over them.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Are you seriously that mad? Come a little closer won’t you?”

Sixty glanced back at Gavin, an unreadable expression on his face, his LED flickering yellow for a moment, “We’re in public Gavin.”

“I didn’t say strip.” Gavin exclaimed with exasperation. “I just wanna cuddle with my boyfriend, is that too much to ask?”

Sixty stared at Gavin intensely for a moment. “What do you have for me?”

Gavin grinned cockily, “That really got your attention huh? What if I said you had to wait until the festival was over?”

“Gavin.” Sixty said warningly.

“If you want it you’re gonna have to make me give it to you.” Gavin declared.

Intrigued, Sixty shifted closer to Gavin, hovering over him. In his eyes Gavin could tell Sixty was going through several options to get what he wanted, but before he could decide Gavin lunged up and tackled Sixty, rolling them over so Sixty was on his back while Gavin was on top of him. Gavin then quickly wrapped his arms and legs tight around his boyfriend.

“Gotcha!” Gavin crooned. “Now you have no choice but to cuddle!”

“You do realize I could easily knock you off?” Sixty questioned.

“Yep.”

Sixty bit the inside of his cheek, but wrapped his arms around Gavin, letting his hand card gently through Gavin’s hair. “Can I at least have whatever it is that you brought me?”

“Geez, impatient aren't you.” Gavin teased while looking at Sixty with amusement, but he reached over with a hand and began digging through his basket. Rustling through the food and drinks he had brought for himself and the thirium packet for Sixty just in case, finally his fingers touched the stiff edge of a box which he pulled out and handed to Sixty.

Sixty examined the wrapping on the box, holding it above Gavin’s head. “It’s a present?”

“Mmm-hmmm” Gavin hummed, staring at Sixty while his chin dug into the android’s chest.

“What for?”

“Just because.”

Sixty didn’t say anything to that, but began unwrapping the present carefully, revealing a clear plastic box with a watch inside. “A watch?” Sixty asked. “You do realize I have an internal clock right? I always know what time it is.”

“I know, but I thought it’d fit in with your 1920’s journalist look. You just need a pair of suspenders and you’re good to go.” Gavin explained, waving his hand vaguely in the air as Sixty reached over to put the wrapping paper in the basket so it wouldn’t blow away. “Honestly I didn’t even know button-ups could have short-sleeves until I saw you wearing them.”

“That’s because you never dress nicer than the generation z bum you are.” Sixty said critically, working on opening the box the watch was contained in.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you try it. The clothes are comfy and I’m not wearing anything annoying like a suit just to fit some standard.”

“Still, I wish you’d at least let me buy you a suit. You would look quite dashing I think.”

Gavin snorted, resting his cheek on Sixty’s chest and looking out over the park and the people listening to music, a few of whom shot them curious looks. “Over my dead body. You can put me in whatever you want when you bury me six feet under, I won’t give a crap then.”

Underneath Gavin, Sixty went unnaturally still, even for an android. Gavin looked back up to see Sixty staring at him seriously, his eyebrows creased slightly in concern. “Please do not joke about your death Gavin.”

“I’m sorry.” Gavin said, placing an apologetic kiss on Sixty’s neck, “Won’t happen again.”

Sixty nodded in acceptance and continued the task of putting his new watch on his left wrist. It had thin leather straps with a white face on silver backing. After turning it this way and that to admire the appearance of it on his wrist, Sixty lowered it so Gavin could see.

“What do you think?”

Gavin smiled. “Looks good on you babe. If you press the button on the top it even lights up.”

Sixty hit the button Gavin indicated and multiple mostly hidden dots on the watch face lit up a faint blue. Blinking in surprise, Sixty asked, “Is that supposed to be Scorpio?”

“Yep. Thought it would suit you, since you were born a Scorpio.”

Sixty frowned. “I wasn’t ‘born,’ I was activated.”

“Born, activated, same thing really.” Gavin stated with a shrug, then looked up at Sixty expectantly, “Do you like it?”

Sixty examined the watch critically and Gavin was expecting a dismissal. He wouldn’t be surprised. He had given plenty of various gifts to Sixty and had gotten a range of reactions. From immediate hatred, to pleasure, to incredulity, and even a laugh once. So if Sixty ended up disliking it, that would be okay. Gavin figured it just helped him narrow down the kinds of things Sixty did like, he also thought it helped Sixty figure that out too.

Finally, Sixty’s lips broke into a smile. “I love it.”

[thethespacecoyote]

Dumb idea for a prompt but abo modern au Jack comes up behind Rhys in a long line at maybe a grocery store or department store and Jack uses the opportunity to be an obnoxious flirt

I made this into a thing where Rhys is shopping after a heat and feels gross, but Jack hits on him anyway :D Modern ABO AU where Hyperion is just a normal company :0

The day immediately following Rhys’ heats was always the worst.

Sure, the inevitable pre-heat panic that set in no matter how many times Rhys has done this was always a bit of a hassle, but preoccupying himself with meal-planning and supply shopping managed to distract him from his anxiety until he was comfortably holed up in his room with plenty of blankets and toys and emergency snacks on hand. The actual heat itself was usually pleasant enough—Vaughn took care of most of the day-to-day chores and checked in on him periodically, and his suppressors prevented the dizzying and potentially dangerous fevers he used to experience.

But even his top-of-the-line medications couldn’t do anything to soften the inevitable post-heat drop.

Rhys had groaned audibly when he’d woken up this morning to find that the mindless need clenched in his belly had finally abated, leaving him with feeling weak and tired and starving. His room had been a mess, far from the usual immaculate state he liked to keep it in. Half of the blankets that had been periodically piled on top of his bed and twisted around his body during his heat had spilled onto the floor, and several of his pillows were still damp with either drying sweat or slick or saliva. He’d kicked a dildo out of bed as he’d swung his legs over the side, trying to re-balance his center of gravity as he’d looked for some clothes to throw on.

Jeans were too tight around the butt and crotch, so he opted for a pair of navy sweatpants that had been tossed onto the floor. He shivered, still cold from the sudden change in body temperature, so he grabbed the old Hyperion sweatshirt he’d gotten from the intern program and zipped it up around his trembling frame. He cuddled into the soft, well-worn neck of the sweatshirt, fairly content to burrow back into his bed and nap the rest of the day away when his stomach snarled at him.

He rubbed his face with a sigh, before hobbling out towards the kitchen.

However, Rhys was mortified to find his ice cream shelf in the freezer completely empty. His jaw fell open, but he aggressively sniffed back the annoyed tears threatening to build up in his eyes. Oh no, no, he wasn’t going to be one of those omegas who cried after their heats, no matter how much he might want to due to the lack of ice cream.

He peered around the house, hoping he could find Vaughn and whine enough to get his best friend to go out and get ice cream himself, but a message on his ECHO quickly told him Vaughn had long left for work, apparently confident that Rhys’ heat had resolved. Rhys pouted, groaning lowly to himself as he looked towards the door. He really, really didn’t want to go out in this state.

But….but ice cream, the hungry little id in his brain needled at him. Rhys frowned down at his stomach as it growled again.

“Traitor…” The omega whined as he shuffled off in search of his shoes.

As Rhys waddled through the ice cream aisle with a series of plastic slaps, he made a mental note to himself to buy some god-damn flats next time he went on a shopping spree. The bright yellow flip-flops glared accusingly back up at him, a constant reminder of how sloppy and thrown together he really looked.

His hair was a mess, presumably. He hadn’t even bothered to take a look in the mirror before he had left, knowing that it was a limp, tangled mess that couldn’t be salvaged without a shower. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye, cringing at the feeling of gunk clinging to his lid. He was a total mess, an eyesore compared to the young professionals and soccer moms flitting through the grocery store grabbing lunch or buying groceries. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to focus on which type of ice cream he wanted and not the bizarre looks he was probably receiving for his disheveled appearance.

His fuzzy brain spent five minutes trying to decide between Mocha Almond Fudge and Strawberry Swirl Cheesecake blast before he finally dumped both into his basket, hobbling towards the check out counter. The line was long, much to his dismay, so he tried to drift off into daydreaming about eating his ice cream, when a sudden nudge to his side jolted him out of his reverie.

“Hey.”

Rhys blinked dumbly, turning around to look at the man behind him.

His nose, even stuffed up as it was, could instantly tell that he was an alpha. And a pretty handsome one at that—all broad in the chest and shoulders, with bronzed skin and a charming smile and eager, twinkling eyes. He was definitely Rhys’ type, if he were at a bar or browsing dating profiles, but he was at a supermarket and post-heat and honestly embarrassed about his current appearance. He averted his eyes, subconsciosly tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

“Hey, uh, sorry, did you need something?” Rhys gestured vaguely to the rows of impulse candy and other items flanking the cashier lanes.

“Oh, I suppose you could say that, cutie,” the strange alpha grinned, showing off a pair of long, attractive canines. A confused, awkward smile flitted on Rhys’ lips.

Cutie? He had on old, unwashed sweatpants, greasy hair, flip-flops…was this guy blind?

“What ya got there, huh?” The alpha peered into Rhys basket. “Ooh, ice cream. Looking for something sweet, kiddo? Good, ‘cause I’m pretty sweet on you.”

Rhys stared back, flummoxed. The line moved ahead without him for a moment before he managed to stumble forward, not sure how to respond. Pre-heat, he wasn’t surprised when alphas tried to flirt with him, their judgement impaired by pheromones driving them to shack up with an omega for a week’s time. But post-heat—post-heat, unless there was a bond or intimacy present driving an alpha to care for him, there should be no reason for one to try to get with him. Especially when he looked like hell shoved into a bag and kicked off a cliff.

“You…really…” Rhys couldn’t stop the disbelieving tone from invading his voice as he replied to the strange alpha, “is this like…a dare from your buddies or something?”

“Buddies? You think I’m putting you on, sugar?” The alpha placed a hand to his chest in mock-offense. “Please. I’m a gentleman.”

Rhys chuckled softly, a little blush crawling over his cheeks as he unloaded the tubs of ice cream onto the conveyor belt.

“You know…if I knew I was going to meet a handsome alpha at the store, I would have dressed better…” He sighed as he tugged his sweatshirt around him, suddenly self conscious. But the alpha raised his eyebrows, looking at Rhys like he was crazy.

“Crap, if this if you not trying, then I’m pretty sure if I ever see you all dolled up my knot would fall off,” he smirked as he dumped a bottle of expensive wine, a box of condoms, and three huge bags of pretzels onto the counter. A happy smile flickered on Rhys’ lips as he paid the cashier, stuffing the pints into his backpack.

“Really…I mean, I clean up pretty well, if I don’t say so myself,” Rhys quipped, rubbing his arm as the alpha paid for his own items, shrugging them into a reusable bag.

“Oh yeah? Well, that’s something I’d like to see. If you’d be up for it, sweetheart.” A business card flicked slickly into the alpha’s hand, quickly passing to Rhys’ eager fingers.

“Go home, eat some ice cream, take a shower….then call me if you need me. Could use some help finishing this wine, yanno.” He winked, firing a finger gun at Rhys before disappearing through the supermarket entrance. Rhys remained, stunned, as he stared at the name engraved onto the business card.

Jack Lawrence, Hyperion CEO.